The Unfamiliar
by the.israel.project107
Summary: Roxas leads a semiperfect life. He's a good person, with reasonable grades, friends he's growing out of, and a regular home environment. Until Axel comes along. Roxas doesn't realise just how much of a sham his whole existence is...AkuRoku,RiSo,Zemyx,CL
1. Chapter 1

**Disclaimer: **And this one lasts the _whole story – _unless I miraculously find myself owning the rights to KH between now and the end – ahem: I seriously, truthfully, regrettably, _do not _own the characters or settings in this fic. All credit for that goes to Disney, and the hopefully immortal Square-Enix.

A/N: Wow, that was a long… twenty-four hours. So much for 'a couple/few days'. I'm too used to writing, I think. Anyway, here's the promised first chapter of the AkuRoku. Hope you all enjoy, but I warn you now, I apparently have this thing with first chapters, namely an irrepressible inability to do them very well. It's kind of like the transitional period – anything that calls for major description, I immediately want to fall asleep over. Still, I swear it'll get better with time. I just don't have this story as firmly in my head as I had Water – the plot for that existed a couple months prior to the fanfic, whereas this one's only about a week old. I'm more or less making it up as I go, which sucks enormously. Oh, also, this one's all in third-person, which also sucks for me since it's my weakness, but I don't feel that I can pull off something like first with this. It would take away from the characters, and feel too Riku-ish. Okay, enough blathering. Hope I don't let you guys down :s

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CHAPTER ONE

Roxas was walking home from work when he bumped into the redhead the first time. The strap of his schoolbag over one shoulder, feet heavy with weariness, he didn't see the guy step in front of him until too late. As exhausted as he was, he just fell straight back, landing on the pavement before his mind even had a chance to catch up. One second he was upright, the next, hissing at the blood seeping from his grazed palms. His books had scattered from his unzipped bag, and Roxas was pretty much cursing life in general for getting him here.

The guy whose brick-wall of a chest he'd collided with crouched down and chuckled. "Kid, you look tired."

Roxas shot him a dirty look. "Yeah, maybe I am. Thanks for laughing at my misfortune, asshole."

The guy's eyebrows shot up, a low whistle coming from his lips. "Wow, did I get you on a bad day, or what?" He started scooping up the books, placing one carefully atop the other, while Roxas curled into a cross-legged position and sulked. The redhead – insanely red – flashed him a toothy grin. "No need to thank me, you bucketful of sunshine, you."

"Ugh!" Roxas' mood plummeted further. He snatched the books away and jammed them messily into his bag, ignoring the pained noise the stranger made at seeing his hard work demolished. "You don't even know me," the blond fumed, "so just leave me alone, okay? You don't know shit about my life, or my mood." He gave the papers one last, violent shove, then stood. The guy followed suit, straightening slowly, a cautious expression on his face.

"I apologise, I guess," he ventured. "My bad."

"Yeah, just piss off," Roxas muttered, pushing past and continuing on his way.

He got several feet, before the guy suddenly yelled, "Axel!"

Roxas jerked to a halt, shoulders hunching, and half-turned irritably. "Excuse me?" he sighed.

"My name. It's Axel." Crimson eyebrows lifted, another broad, amused smile. "Got it memorised, yet?"

"Okay, fine, Axel, who cares." Roxas rubbed at his forehead impatiently with his knuckles. "Nice to bounce off you and fucking cut myself."

The guy laughed, a rich sound that echoed along the street. "Pleasure's all mine, Blondie."

Roxas stomped away.

--

Okay, so maybe the asshole in that exchange had been Roxas, and not the redhead – but, damn it, long, hard, boring days should _not _be capped off with pain and/or blood. He supposed he should have made more of an effort – after all, how often does someone new come to Twilight Town? And speak to _him_, no less.

Oh, well. No doubt the guy was only passing through. Twilight Town wasn't the sort of place people moved to in a permanent way. It had its regulars, the ones who had been there since forever, and that was about it. People only ever _left. _

Roxas didn't _mind, _as such, living in a dull little town. Home was home, after all. But on days like this one, the last thing you needed was a bright red reminder that your life wasn't exactly panning out the way you'd planned it at five years old.

What the hell had possessed him to get a job at a toy store, anyway? Maybe that _had _been left over from the five-year-old dream, but it definitely wasn't how he'd imagined it to be. Toy shops, you figure that's got to be a fun profession, right? Wrong. If you thought you'd be playing with the cool new toys, you'd be incorrect. Nooo. You stock shelves, you deal with electronic dolls stuck on 'demo' mode that every sticky little finger in sight feels the need to activate, you have mothers with squalling _things_ attached to their hips and a two-dollar budget trying to convince their shit-on-a-stick seven-year-old that it's not necessary to have the most expensive toy in the shop simply because _Timmy _has one, and the resultant tantrum that ensues.

Add that to a whole day of school, the pain that is learning, and you find yourself in not-very-happy Roxas mode.

Of course, now that he was almost home, he was starting to feel guilty about biting the guy's head off like he did. The redhead – Axel? – hadn't meant any harm, he'd even helped him pick up his books. He'd tried to be nice, and Roxas had spat that lovely little sentiment straight back in his face. He hoped, with a pang, that the guy wouldn't assume all of Twilight Town was as pissy as him, and never come back again.

He reached his house, and fumbled through his pocket for the keys. The door gave its customary creak as it opened, Roxas leaving the cool, dwindling evening behind as he shut it again. He unhooked his bag and dropped it by the entrance, kicking off his shoes and calling, "Mom? I'm back."

"Roxas, honey." His mother emerged from the kitchen, bringing the scent of tomatoes with her, wiping her small hands on a dishcloth. She smiled at her only son. "How was your day?"

"Oh, you know, mom," Roxas sighed, running a hand through his hair and throwing himself into an armchair. "Same old, same old. Nothing to complain about." He lay back, hooking his legs over one arm of the seat, resting his head against the other, and closed his eyes.

"Honey, what happened to your hands?" she asked, concerned. She came over and picked up his wrist, turning it over to reveal the scraped palm. Roxas shrugged.

"I just fell over on the way back, it's no big deal. I'm just – " He broke off into a wide yawn. "…tired."

His mother plucked at his hair affectionately, then planted a kiss on his forehead, patting his shoulder. "Dinner's in ten minutes. Go wash up, okay?"

Roxas stayed where he was for a while, feeling the lethargy steal through his muscles, weighing them down. In the end, it was his stomach that got him moving, letting out a hungry growl at the promise of sustenance.

"Okay, okay," he muttered. He reached up, grabbing the soft material of the seat and hauled himself over the arm and onto his feet. His socks making each step silent, he padded upstairs to the bathroom and washed his hands, picking out pieces of sand and grit from the grazes. He glanced up ruefully at his reflection, the bright blue eyes dulled from too many hours. His hair was a mess. Scowling, he reached up and tried using the water to style it a little, ending up only with damp, messy locks.

"_Roxas!" _His mother's voice floated up. Giving his cheeks a light slap with cold hands, he left the bathroom and headed downstairs. Mom had dinner set up on the kitchen table, steaming, smelling great. He noticed there were only two plates. Sitting down, picking up his fork, he asked, "Dad's working late again?"

"Mm," she responded, not pleased. She sat across from him, frowning. "That man he works for is driving him too hard."

Roxas snorted. "The world is full of jerk-offs, mom."

"Don't be crude," she scolded.

They ate in relative silence, each too tired to make regular conversation. Roxas' parents both worked, normal sorts of jobs with normal sorts of hours, but on the days that his dad had to work late, his mom got lumped with the cooking and cleaning as well. Usually it was all sort of split three ways between them – they were a good family, they functioned well together – but when Roxas had his after-school job, it meant that his mom had just that bit extra to do of an evening. She dealt okay; it just meant that these nights meant early bedtimes for all, something Roxas would never disagree with. Sleep was every teen's best friend.

"I'll clean up," Roxas offered wearily, as they finished, but his mother shook her head, grabbing his plate before he could protest.

"I'd rather you went upstairs and did your homework, hon. This won't take long once I get going, and I want you to rest up."

"Aw, _mom." _Roxas sidled up beside her and gave her a hug. "Thanks, I'm sorry for being a lazy son."

"Lazy, maybe, but academic, which makes my poor overworked heart all better." She patted the hands he'd knotted around her middle. "Go on, you. Make sure to get to bed at a reasonable hour. No videogames tonight."

"Yes, ma'am." Roxas left her to the dishes, grabbed his schoolbag from the front door, and headed up to his bedroom. Once there, he kicked the door shut, and tipped his books and papers onto the desk. There was still an order to them, from when the redhead guy stacked them. Roxas wondered idly how anyone got hair that colour.

It took three hours to finish all his assignments, by which time, the rest of the house had gone dark. The desk lamp burned faithfully, casting gentle light through the room, soft shadows. Roxas was just about falling asleep in his chair, but managed to slide everything together into a semblance of tidiness, and stagger off for a shower.

At last, hair dripping, dressed in loose cotton pants and a baggy t-shirt, Roxas switched off the lamp and fell into bed. The sheets were cool, the comforter soft. Surely this was some version of heaven.

A pinpoint of white light pierced the room through the thin curtains, from the streetlight outside, illuminating the old glow-in-the-dark stars stuck to his ceiling. Roxas fell asleep counting them, never getting past thirty.

--

"Roxassssss."

"Hey, Hayner."

It was morning. Roxas was almost at school, when the other blond intercepted his path. His best friend slapped him on the back, enthusiastically. "How'd it go tormenting the kiddies yesterday, man?"

Roxas shrugged his backpack from one shoulder to the next, giving a dry smile. "I'm pretty sure it's the other way round."

Hayner shook his head in mock-despair. "Seriously, dude, you're going about this all wrong. This is your one chance in life to go around scaring little kids without getting in trouble! How can you pass that up?" He adopted a Dracula face and accent, hands hooked into claws, mimicking, _"Bleaugh! I van't to suck your blurd!" _He moved on to dismay, covering his mouth apologetically."Oh, I'm _sorry, _ma'am, I was just testing out this new _costume, _I didn't mean to make little Billy _cry." _

Roxas was laughing, shaking his head, a hand over his eyes. "I am _so _glad you don't work at my store," he gasped. "You are _sick."_

"I'm glad, too," Hayner grinned, draping an arm over the blond's neck, squeezing him tightly. He sighed, "Man, this is such a feel-good moment. I think – yes, I'm pretty sure I'm gonna start crying. Any minute now."

"That's only because we've reached the schoolyard," Roxas pointed out. Hayner let go, lips trembling, and pretended to sob into his hands.

"Oh, _God, _it's true, it's all _true!"_

Roxas shoved him away, rolling his eyes. Their two friends, Olette and Pence, were already waiting outside the large building. Upon spying them, Olette gave a large, happy wave, and came trotting over. "You guys! How's it going?" Her bright shirt caught the light, illuminating her chin briefly orange. Pence brought up the rear, smiling good-naturedly.

"Did everyone do their English essay?" he asked, upon joining the group. Roxas nodded.

"Yup."

Hayner just gave him a squinty sort of look. "English… essay…"

"The essay for English, yes."

Olette started scowling, green eyes narrowing as she crossed her arms over her chest. "Hayner," she warned.

"I didn't do anything wrong!" the boy yelped, hands held out defensively.

"You didn't exactly do anything right, either," Roxas said.

Hayner punched his arm. "Whose side are you on?"

"He's on the side that causes the least amount of pain," Pence chirped, patting a hand onto Olette's shoulder as she continued to glower.

"Hayner, please tell you did _not _blow off your English homework again," Olette said, her saccharine-sweet voice belied by her vulture-like body language. "Because I'm pretty sure your parents told you, no more weekends if your point-average drops any further. No more _weekends," _she added, glaring from under her brow, "equals no more _us time." _

Olette sure was a scary girl to be dating. Roxas almost pitied his best friend. Very, very nearly.

"This is my cue to ride off into the sunset, guys," Roxas smiled. "I'll see you at lunch."

"Where're you going?" Pence asked curiously.

Hayner seized his sleeve, tugged him close. "You're not _leaving _me?" he hissed anxiously. Roxas detangled himself, backed away patting his bag.

"I've got some extra credit to hand in before first period starts. Sorry, but you'll have to fight your own battle this time."

He left the grass, smiling at the sound of the ordinarily sweet and harmless Olette going feisty on her boyfriend's lazy ass. Mounting the stone steps to the door, he entered the school building and went to hand in his extra credit work. That done, he stopped off in the bathroom to splash his face, trying to wake up a little more, and continued on to first period Calculus, only to be accosted halfway.

"Roxas!" He turned inquisitively, to see the school secretary coming his way with… Holy hell. It was yesterday's brick-wall guy. Wasn't he too old for high school? Roxas blinked, startled.

"Uh, M-Miss Charon?"

The woman smiled breathlessly, coming to a halt in front of him, taking hold of his jacket and pulling him towards the redhead. "This," she declared, gesturing with sharp nails, "is Axel. He's new at the school, starting just today! In fact, he's in absolutely every one of your classes, which is why _you," _she gave him a little shake, "get to be his mentor for his first week."

Axel sketched a cheery wave. "Hey."

"Uh…" Roxas eyed him dubiously. "Hi." He shifted his gaze to the secretary, who beamed at this apparent show of fraternity.

"Well, I'll let you two run along to class. Don't be late! Have fun now!" She scuttled back down the hall, leaving them to stare at each other. Roxas blushed a little, shamefully, scratching the blond spikes at the back of his head.

"Uh, about last night…"

"Forget it," the redhead said easily, green gaze pinioning. He had a half-smirk in place as he shrugged. "At least you don't look quite so tired today. Yesterday was rough or something?"

Roxas sighed, wiping a hand over his face. The guy was friendly. And nosy. "Daylight is rough," he clarified. He shook himself, attempted geniality. "So, same class schedule, huh? Which means Calc first."

"Yeah. Heh." As they got walking, Axel shook his head and said, "You know, you don't know it, but this whole mentor situation is seriously ironically amusing."

"Oh?"

"Yeah, forget about it, though. So, you like school?"

Roxas shot him a weird look, at both the question and the abrupt subject-change. "Like school? As in, _like? _No. I'm pretty sure I don't like school. School is boring and exhausting."

Axel seemed interested, nodding his head a few times as though Roxas had said something profound. "I like that," he said. "That's a good sign."

Roxas shrugged. "We're here. I'll wait for you afterwards, okay?"

"Sure thing, Roxas."

Roxas weaved through the desks and sat in his usual seat, laying his head on the table to wait, while the redhead introduced himself to the teacher. In the space of a night and morning, he'd met up with the guy twice, and now he was in all of Roxas' classes. Weird. Also, good in a way. He really had felt bad about being such a dick to him, and at least now he'd got to apologise. Roxas wondered where he'd come from. It was rare for there to be new students at Twilight High. Those that came from the outside usually left not long after. Must've been something in the water, but nobody hung around long unless they'd been born there.

As Axel talked, hands moving animatedly, Roxas used the chance to get a good look at him, propping his chin on his forearms, head tilted slightly to the side. He looked a little different in straight daylight. His hair was, if possible, even brighter, and stuck out in long, no doubt aerodynamic, spikes. His eyes, too – he hadn't noticed them last night, but damn, they sure stood out. They were feline, and bright, and just so _green. _Not emerald, or leaf, or jade or – just – just _green. _

New people were definitely interesting.

The class passed at a reasonable rate, and Roxas found himself with more after-school work to do, the never-ending cycle remaining in motion as he handed in last week's assignment. He packed his stuff away, heaved up from the desk, and sloped off towards the door. A hand grabbed him as he started off down the hall, bringing him out of his lesson-induced stupor with a jump.

Axel, also incredibly _tall _when he was right beside you like this, smirked. "What, did you forget about me, Rox? Or are you just trying to ditch me?"

"Ditch," the blond said automatically. "But I guess you caught me."

Axel laughed. "Oh, man, are you always this pleasant, or is it just me?"

Roxas cocked an eyebrow as they got moving. "Are you always this tolerant of assholes, or is it just the Prozac talking?"

Axel leaned down, grinning. "You know, Roxas? I think I like you."

Roxas rolled his eyes a little. "I guess that's a good thing."

"Sure it is!" The redhead ruffled his hair. "It means we get to be buddies!"

"Sure, okay." Roxas struggled to flatten the new, wild spikes the interference had formed. "We've got Biology next. Have you got a textbook, or do I need to fix you up?"

"Fix me, baby."

"_Roxas!" _The pair halted and turned, as Hayner and Pence came jogging up. They shot the new guy curious glances.

"Olette let you live," Roxas observed with a slight smile. Hayner huffed.

"Only just," Pence revealed knowingly. "And only because he promised to make up for the essay with extra credit." The round-faced brunet smiled at the redhead. "Hi, there, I'm Pence, Roxas' friend. And you are…?"

"Oh!" Axel, looking surprised, thrust out a hand to be shaken. "The name's Axel. Get it memorised, because I'm your buddy's new best friend!"

"Oh, really?" Hayner scowled, looking him up and down. "I'm sorry, but that position is already filled, bean-pole."

"Hayner." Roxas sighed and shook his head. "Down boy. I'm Axel's mentor for the week, until he gets settled in."

"Where're you from?" Pence asked, smiling encouragingly to make up for Hayner's hostility.

Axel made a vague motion with one hand. "Oh, you know, out of town. It's pretty far from here. I moved with my parents."

"Well, _that _was informative," Hayner sardonically said, hands moving to his hips. "Are we gonna stand around here chatting with the newbie all day, or are we getting to class?"

"Since when do you care about class?" Roxas wondered sceptically. "Isn't this the one you skipped last week?"

"Ooh, tough guy," Axel interjected, eyes shining mischievously. Roxas cut him a warning glance, while Hayner flipped him off.

"That was until Olette threatened to cut me off," he groused.

Pence burst into wild gales of laughter. _"Cut you off? _Way to make it sound like she's sleeping with you, Hayner."

"Maybe she is," he argued.

"Maybe she owns the philosophy 'no sex before marriage' and told us exactly that when you guys started going out," Roxas replied, smugly.

"I – uh – damn." Hayner pouted. "Okay, so she'll cut me off from making out. Same diff."

"Sure, Hayner."

Pence was still giggling like a fool by the time they reached Biology. Roxas pushed Axel towards the teacher, and went and sat at his workbench next to Hayner.

"Class," the biology professor addressed them all, "we have a new student today, his name's Axel. I'm sure you'll all show him the courtesy he deserves. Roxas? Since you're Axel's mentor, would you please join him at the empty workbench? Hayner, you may attach yourself to Pence's group for this week's lessons."

Grumbling about bean-poles, Hayner shifted closer to Pence's desk, while Roxas went to sit with Axel. The redhead flashed him a winning smile.

"Roxas, fancy meeting you here."

"It's amazing," the blond agreed.

"Gentlemen? If you don't mind, I'll begin the lesson now."

They shut up, and got to work. Throughout the class, Roxas couldn't help but notice the numerous glances the other teen sent his way, flashes of green out of the corner of his eye. He shifted uncomfortably, and ignored it, figuring the redhead would give up eventually. After an hour, he lost patience.

"Can I help you?" he whispered, not looking up from his book, as the professor droned at the front of the room.

Axel smiled a little, turning to face him more fully. "Depends – what kind of help are you offering, Blondie?"

Roxas rolled his eyes, keeping them on his work, but his pen ceased moving across the page as he pointed out, "You keep looking at me. Is there a reason?"

"Hmm. Does there need to be a reason?" The redhead leaned close, so that his breath warmed Roxas' ear. "Maybe I'm just enjoying the view."

"The view of me doing schoolwork," Roxas deadpanned. "How breathtaking." He lifted his gaze to glare. "How about you find someone else to fulfil your working-man fetish with?"

Axel leaned back again, amused. "But Roxie, you fill the role _so _nicely."

Roxas snorted, and ignored him the rest of the lesson. Lunchtime rolled around.

"Hey, bean-pole," Hayner asked, as they headed for the cafeteria, "who're you sitting with? Got any friends yet?"

"I have my Roxie," Axel smirked, draping himself over the blond teen, who let out a frustrated noise and squirmed. Hayner knocked his arm back off, glaring.

"You know Roxas isn't gay, right?"

"Did I just ask him out without meaning to? Oh, hell, I _hate _when that happens." He lightly slapped himself. "Bad Axel. _Bad."_

"Jesus, where did you learn to be such a douche?"

"Same academy you went to learn how to be a jacktard, kid."

"What's a jacktard?" Pence wondered.

Roxas lifted his hands to massage his temples. "Seriously, can you people stop talking? Please? Just for, like, a minute? I swear to God, these conversations get dumber every day."

"Don't worry, Roxie, now that I'm here, you'll get some intelligent company," Axel smiled, patting the blond on the back. Pence frowned.

"I think I object to that…"

"Hayner!"

"Oh, thank you, God," Roxas muttered. Olette came running, and jumped into her boyfriend's arms.

"How was class?"

"I went," Hayner admitted begrudgingly. Olette beamed.

"Good boy. I knew you'd come around."

Axel made the sound of a whip being lashed, earning a death-glare from Hayner, and broad smirks from Roxas and Pence. They found a table and brought out their various lunches, Hayner standing in line to buy Olette a juice. Axel took the seat next to Roxas, propped his elbows on the table, and watched. Roxas shot him a glance, noticed he wasn't eating. "Didn't you bring food?" he mumbled through a mouthful of bread. Axel shook his head.

"Nah. Foresight, not really my thing." He shrugged. "It's cool, I don't eat much anyway." Roxas raised an eyebrow, then broke off half his sandwich to offer to the redhead. Axel blinked, looked at him. "For me?"

Roxas swallowed his mouthful. "No," he said, "it's for the _other _anorexic at the table."

Axel pouted. "I'm far from skinny," he argued. "I have muscles, right here." He slapped his chest. "I just have a little waist. Doesn't mean I'm anorexic."

"You have a skinny waist and don't bring lunch to school. Prove me wrong and eat the damn sandwich."

"I'm _tall, _too," the redhead muttered, taking a defiant bite of bread and meat. "It all has to _stretch. _Not like you, short-ass."

"Excuse me," Roxas said mildly, "but I'm pretty sure you didn't just call me that. If you called me _that, _I'm afraid there'd be consequences."

"Oh?" Axel lounged in his chair, grinning lecherously, his head resting lazily against his arm. "Gonna punish me, Roxie?"

"Forget it," Roxas sighed. "I can see I've been dumped with Innuendo-Boy for the week. What fun this'll be."

"So, Axel, where're you from, anyway?" Olette asked perkily, as Hayner slid in beside her, handing her a bottle and a straw.

"Oh, he's from 'out of town'," Hayner informed her sarcastically. "He's a real mine of information."

"As a matter of fact, I'm from Hollow Bastion," Axel responded smoothly. He took another large bite, the half almost completely consumed already. He chewed slowly, a smirk in place, as everyone processed this information with puzzlement.

"Hollow…?" Olette frowned thoughtfully. "I'm sure I've heard of it, but I can't think of where."

"It's probably on some TV show or something," Hayner dismissed. "I wouldn't trust that guy as far as I could throw him."

"Oh, that guy? Yeah, I totally agree. What a prick, I hate that guy." Axel gave a snort, flicked his own ear to emphasise that, yes, he was within earshot. "I didn't make it up, I am definitely from Hollow Bastion. I prefer it here, though, it's a nice town." He shrugged, straightened up, finished his sandwich. "It's warmer, for one thing. Brighter colours. Kind of a getaway, coming here." His green eyes darted quickly around the cafeteria, a wistful expression on his face.

"How come you moved?" Pence asked. Axel shrugged.

"It was just one of those things that happen. It's not a big deal."

"Are you looking for work?" Olette inquired. The redhead hesitated.

"I don't know. Maybe. I figure I'll just wait and see."

"Good philosophy," Roxas murmured. "Don't get a job until you have to, it sucks."

"Only because you don't know what you're doing," Hayner declared, hooking back into their topic from earlier in the morning. He leaned over the table, shaking his sandwich for emphasis as he spoke. "I'm _telling _you, man, you just gotta find a way to make it not _obvious…"_

The rest of the day passed without further incident, Roxas dutifully taking Axel to each class. He spent most of the time trying to figure out if the redhead's sporadic flirtation was for real, or if he was just another class clown testing the water.

At last, the day was over. Roxas descended the school's steps quickly, having been let out a little earlier than the other classes, hoping he wouldn't have to socialise any further between here and home. He loved his friends, but at times, especially lately, he found himself getting quickly tired by their antics – Hayner's lightening-flash mood swings, Olette's maternal bullying, even Pence's pleasant-natured geekiness – all were beginning to get him down. He couldn't figure out why, exactly, and he hated having to suppress that feeling of impatience whenever he found himself trapped within their circle. These were his _best friends. _They deserved better than this. He didn't want to alienate them, just because he was going through some sort of post-adolescence crisis.

"Roxie!"

Shit. There was only one person who called him that. He turned, stomach sinking, as a blaze of red in the sunlight came bouncing over. Of course, being in the same class as him, Axel had got off early, too. He'd had some business with the office admin, and Roxas had hoped this meant a clean break, but evidently not. He forced a weak smile.

"Hey, Axel."

Green eyes peered intently into blue. "You're looking tired again. Gotta do something about that narcolepsy, Rox."

Roxas, fighting irritation, pulled away from the inspection and kept walking, keeping his pace quick. Axel matched him easily, long legs maintaining an even stride. "So, you going home now?"

"Yes," Roxas bit off. "Aren't you?"

Axel shrugged, adjusting his backpack strap. "I guess. I was thinking of wandering around a little first. Maybe find a cute blond to bump into and send sprawling over the pavement."

"Oh, so it's a nightly occurrence for you?" Roxas grumbled.

"Ha-ha-haha-ha!" Axel sang. "Roxie just admitted that he's cuuu-ute!"

The blond massaged the bridge of his nose. "Don't you ever stop making noise?"

Axel pretended to think. "Can't say that I do, no," he said at last, regretfully. He beamed. "But I'm sure you'll learn to love me anyway."

They walked in silence for a while, immediately belying Axel's words. Roxas was off, lost in himself, a distant expression possessing his features, letting Axel's gaze wander undetected. "So, Roxas," he struck up abruptly. "Is it just me that does this to you, or are you not too happy with life in general right now?"

The blond blinked, frowned. "I'm not sure I get what you mean."

Axel shrugged. "You just seem like you could be a really fun person, I guess, but there's this heaviness around you. I was just wondering if it's through a potent dislike of me, or if maybe you're just depressed."

"Is there such a thing as _just _depressed?" Roxas shook his head, sighed. "Look, I'm sorry I've been a dick to you, really. It's not that I dislike you at all. I've just got a lot on my plate right now. I just need some space, is all."

Axel tilted his head to the side, turned around to face the blond, walking backwards. "I understand that. Sometimes, living in a place like this…" Axel studied him for a minute, footsteps slapping irregularly as he navigated the path without tripping. Roxas lifted his eyes, meeting the redhead's gaze, gestured for him to continue. "Well, sometimes in a place like this, you can feel crushed." Axel shrugged. "There's a lot more out there than you know, just living out your life in Twilight Town. I mean, don't you ever dream of escaping? Finding new worlds to go to?"

"New worlds?" Roxas' step slowed a little. Axel adjusted his speed accordingly, keeping them close, his eyes never leaving the blond's sun-kissed features. "I don't know about that," he said slowly. "But… It _would _be nice to get away. I don't really… think about it. I suppose I ought to." He frowned. "Nobody ever really talks about leaving Twilight Town. I guess… maybe because we don't get a lot of visitors?"

Axel nodded. "That could be it. But _I'm_ here now." He gave Roxas a smile, genuine, and winked. "I'm here to stretch that little Twilight brain of yours, and show you that there's better stuff out there than just the familiar. You know?"

Roxas made a face. "Little brain?"

Axel laughed, poked him in the stomach. "Oh, don't worry, Roxie, I'm sure it's a very _smart _little brain. It just needs to be – expanded."

Roxas sighed. "Yeah, I guess. Maybe I should take a foreign language. Then someday I could travel."

Axel mulled this over. "Well, yeah, it's an option. But you could always just take me up as a friend, and expand yourself vicariously! After all – and don't tell anyone, coz I don't think they know yet – I'm from out of town myself."

Roxas smiled, rolled his head to the side to peer at the redhead from beneath the blond spikes that had fallen across his eye. "Don't worry," he promised, "your secret's safe with me."

Axel poked his nose. "You are just too cute for your own good, did you know that?"

Roxas shook his head, quickening his step again. "Whatever you say, Axel."

Axel's wristwatch suddenly let out a series of staccato beeps, startling the redhead. Scowling, he lifted his wrist to check the time.

"Problem?" Roxas asked. Axel sighed and shook his head.

"Nah, I just have to get going. Maybe I can follow you home some other time." He flashed a bright smile at the blond. "It was nice meeting you, Roxie. I hope you think about what we've discussed. Think of it as – Axel homework." He leaned in suddenly, lowering his voice an octave, and lifted his crimson brows suggestively. "I like the thought of you working on me at home."

Roxas glared and shoved him away, making him laugh. "I'll see you later, Roxie!" With that, the redhead clutched his bag close, and peeled away at a swift jog, disappearing around the corner into the next street. Roxas finished the walk home alone, and, despite himself, found his thoughts filled with the interesting new redhead in his life.


	2. Chapter 2

**Disclaimer: **I don't own Pinky and the Brain, either. That… I'm not so regretful over.

A/N: Back on schedule :D Half of this was written last night, and I've got the main events of the next chapter more or less in mind, so things are starting to get going in my head. Thanks for all the reviews guys, it's no less exciting this time around than it was the first XD I realise that Roxas is rather, erm, angsty in this fic, but I'm working on toning it down, for the sake of realism. I'm just floundering a little, trying to find a steady ground for him in my mind.

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CHAPTER TWO

Roxas lay in bed, gazing up at the stars on the ceiling, arms stretched above his head, thinking. He wondered where he'd heard the name Hollow Bastion before, and what it was like. Axel was right – there was a lot outside of Twilight Town. Sure, Roxas couldn't think of anything off the top of his head, but he wanted to _know. _He wanted to see it all. He didn't _want _to discover things vicariously.

He wondered, most of all, how long Axel would be sticking around. Eventually, he would leave, just like all the other out-of-towners had, and life would resume without him, just as it always had been like. But Roxas wouldn't be the same, even if everyone else was.

He was doing his Axel homework – he was thinking of the redhead, and what he'd said.

Damn the man for being so memorable.

At first, getting his job at the toy store had meant to be the thing that gave him that extra bit of experience in life, let him branch out and explore a world independent of his friends or family – but that ended up just becoming part of the same boring life he'd ever led. Now, he just had added pressure, and more headaches. He wasn't even sure if it was worth the munny he earned. He wouldn't quit – not yet, at any rate. That would be… it'd be giving up, and Roxas didn't _want _to be a quitter. He wanted to just… _find _what it was inside of him that made him feel so empty all the time, so repressed, so _trapped, _and scoop it out with a pair of scissors and a fork. He wanted to feel normal again, like he had when he was younger, when nothing was better than sitting in the Usual Spot under the train tracks, with the gang and a sea-salt ice cream bar, planning for the next Struggle tournament. He hadn't felt that sort of enthusiasm for bordering on two years now. It was… draining, being jaded during what should have been the best years of his life.

He wondered how Axel felt about life. If he found it fresh and exciting, or if, because it was just normal for him, he was just as bored as Roxas. Did he enjoy the fact that he'd moved to a little town like this? Was he telling the truth when he said he liked Twilight Town better?

Roxas… he liked his home town. He loved his friends and family. And – he wouldn't give up what he had, not in a million years, not for anything… But was it so wrong for him to wish for more? He felt… like maybe it was. No one else expressed these desires. No one else found this day-by-day existence to be stagnant. Or at least, if they did, they kept it to themselves, and painted on happy faces, so that Roxas couldn't tell.

He didn't paint a face for himself. He didn't have the heart to. He tried to keep in his growing unease, but in the last two years, he'd become quieter, a little sullen. He'd lost his exuberance, and while everyone else just told him it was a phase he was going through, he couldn't help but fear that this was him forever. Because all he could see in his future was the life his parents had lived, and theirs, and it terrified him.

He sighed, squeezing his eyes shut in frustration. He wished he had something to knock himself out. It was always at night, in bed, that these thoughts surfaced. No matter how exhausted he was, once this train of thought started up, Roxas was doomed to at least an hour, sometimes two, of wallowing in his own desperation.

_Axel, _he told himself firmly, picturing the redhead. Axel would make it all okay.

Roxas was sure of it.

-------

The next day at school, Roxas was on the lookout. He didn't let on to anyone that he was, God no, he hid behind his usual stoic, half-smiling façade, but his eyes were restless, as he hung out with his friends out on the front grass, plucking up the green blades and mutilating them between his nails, waiting for the bell to ring.

Axel never came. He didn't like to admit it, but his disappointment was severe. He had hoped… well, he had just… hoped, really. He had felt something other than the dull ache for a while, and now, that was withering.

Maybe it was over already; maybe Axel would never return. Maybe all he'd have now was half-formed, pining ideas of what another life could be, to drag him from what was lonely disquiet into full-blown, angsting depression.

He endured the two classes before lunch, jaw tense, only to discover the redhead outside the cafeteria on his way to get some food.

Upon seeing him, Roxas' face slackened, eyes growing wide, then narrowing. He stalked over to where the object of his displeasure awkwardly stood, looking almost out of place among all the teens that had grown up together. His gaze fell on Roxas, lit up. "Roxie!" he exclaimed, coming out of his cross-armed position against the wall. "I was waiting for you!" He took in the pissed expression, and faltered. "I mean, hi?"

"Where were you, exactly?" Roxas demanded. "When I was hanging around, thinking you were maybe running a little late, ending up being late _myself, _where were you?"

"Um…" Axel blinked. "Not here?"

Bad answer. "You know, Axel, you make it pretty damn hard to be a good mentor, when you're trying your damndest to be a sucky student," the blond fumed. "What, did they not care about attendance at your old school?"

"Whoa, Roxie, slow down." Axel waved his hands in front of the angry face, an anxious expression on his own, bending down to try and be level with him. "Seriously, kid, you're going to blow a gasket or something at this rate. How's that blood pressure of yours doing?"

Roxas brushed him aside impatiently. "Don't call me kid, Axel, you're the same age as me, remember? Just – " He sighed abruptly, rage leaking away, leaving weariness in its wake. Tedious, hollow weariness. "Just forget it. I'm getting something to eat. You go skip class to your heart's content."

Axel followed him into the cafeteria, struggling to explain himself to the closed-off teen. "You like jumping to conclusions, don't you, Rox?" he said worriedly. Roxas attempted to ignore him, but was grabbed by the arm. He shot Axel a cold look.

"Yes?"

"Exactly when did you assume that I was skipping class?" Axel asked, faintly annoyed with the cold-shoulder treatment. "Because I was just innocently standing there, waiting for you, and all you've done is chew me out since I saw you."

"I…" Roxas frowned, wracking his brains, a small amount of panic telling him that at no point was there any reason for him to assume that Axel was skipping. And even if he was…

"What do you care, anyway?"

"I – I just…" Roxas was flustered. He yanked his arm free, running a hand through his hair. "I told you. I don't want to look like a bad mentor. You – you're reflecting on me."

"Well." Axel raised a sardonic eyebrow. "I'm sorry that my early _doctor's appointment _reflects so negatively on you, Roxie. How can you ever forgive me?"

"…Oh." Roxas' voice was small. "Doctor's appointment?"

Axel, reassured that the ice had been successfully broken into floaty, melting chunks, was amused. "Yep."

"Oh."

Axel let him squirm for a couple moments, then heaved a gusty sigh and threw an arm around the blond's shoulders, steering him towards the lunch-line. "Don't worry, Roxie, I won't make you look bad in front of the school. Promise."

Roxas shook him off, with a half-hearted glower. "I don't… really _care _care…"

He snorted. "Oh, sure, just enough to attack me with a stick."

"I didn't!"

"Only because you didn't have one," Axel pointed out. He patted the blond spikes soothingly. "It's okay, Roxie. Our first fight is over, and now…" He grinned wickedly. "…we can kiss and make up."

Roxas glared anew. "Right. Whatever you say. I'm going to go find a seat now, and wait for the others."

As suddenly as he'd arrived, Roxas wanted him gone again. All that time wasted thinking of the redhead, only to realise that in the flesh, he was still as immature and flirty as ever. How did Roxas ever think that salvation came in the form of a flame-haired joker of a pervert?

He grabbed their usual table, just as the other three arrived together, making a beeline for him. "Roxas, how was trig? Did you get the pop-quiz?" Hayner swung himself into the chair beside him, immediately starting to untangle a sandwich from inside a complex, mile-long twist of cling-wrap. Roxas watched, fascinated, nodded.

"Yeah, it wasn't too bad…"

"I liked it," Olette chirped, bringing up her feet to sit cross-legged on the chair, wiggling to get comfortable while she pushed a lock of brown hair behind her ear. "I figured it was coming, so I've been studying up. It was so easy!"

Hayner snorted. "Sometimes, I think you should've ended up with Pence. Then you could both drool over crap like that, and get all hot during study-sessions."

Olette flushed, throwing her lunchbox at her boyfriend, obtaining a yelp from him. He rubbed at his forehead, scowling. "Jesus, 'Lette, that hurt."

"Stop making fun of me and Pence then," she pouted.

"That'd be Pence and _I," _Roxas murmured with a small grin, hiding it behind his drink. Olette glared, while the other two giggled like naughty boys behind their hands.

"Helloooooo, peasants." Axel thumped down into the chair next to Pence, sporting a carrot juice and a box of fries. He spared a moment to gaze blankly at Hayner's sandwich, still being diligently unwrapped. "Make your own lunch today, Blondie?"

Hayner scowled. "Keep you mouth shut, bean-pole, so I don't have to shut it for you."

"Ooh." Axel's eyes went wide, as he focused on opening the top of his juice. "I'm intimidated," he stage whispered in Roxas' direction.

Roxas chuckled, masked it as a clearing of the throat as Hayner switched his burning gaze to him, and whispered back, "Submit."

Axel snorted loudly. "As if," he said, normal volume. "Ummmm." He shoved several fries in at once. "Deep-fried goodness."

"Gross," Roxas commented. Axel made a face, opened his mouth to reveal the chewed-up food. Roxas shook his head wryly. "And here I thought you could bring some maturity to this group. Silly me."

"Very," the redhead agreed, and dug into the rest of his food with an almost obscene relish. "You have no idea how long it's been since I had fries," he muttered through a mouthful. He rolled his eyes back into his head. "Unh, God it's good."

"Do you mind? Some of us are trying to eat. You looking like the fries are orgasmic isn't doing a lot for my appetite."

"Orgasm fries," Pence laughed. "Man, I wonder if they'd sell out or bust." He thought for a moment, then shook his head. "I really can't decide."

"Sell out," Axel nodded fervently, jamming more in.

"I think… I just went off fries," Olette said quietly, delicately wrinkling her nose. She turned to her boyfriend. "Hayner, you're not allowed to take me to Burger King for dates anymore. It's French restaurants all the way from here."

"Fries _are _French," the dirty-blond muttered, finally freeing his sandwich from its prison. He took a bite, unperturbed by the cheer of victory the redhead gave upon seeing the liberation, taking time only to flip him off, something that felt like it would become a regular occurrence.

The rest of the day passed normally, and Axel attended all his classes, sitting beside Roxas whenever he could. Really, it was flattering that the redhead was paying so much attention to him. Okay, so it was only his second day, which meant that Roxas was really the only one he properly knew, but still – it didn't feel like Axel was just going to abandon him the moment someone slightly cool came along and crooked a finger.

As the final bell rang, releasing them for one more day, Axel packed up his things quickly. He met Roxas at the door, eagerly. "So, do I get to follow you home today?"

Roxas paused, shifted into the hall, shooting him a dubious look. "You… want to follow me _home." _

The redhead grinned. "Unless you'd rather show me around the town?"

Roxas raised his eyebrows, grimaced slightly, nodded. "I can do that. The last part, that is – I don't need you knowing where I live."

Axel snuffed a laugh. "Yeah, because I'm such a stalker. It's what I do when I'm _skipping school."_

Roxas rolled his eyes, blushed a little, muttered something under his breath. "Well, come on," he said grudgingly. "We need to leave from the back if we want to avoid the others."

"Sounds good to me," Axel murmured with a smile, following the blond down the hall.

-------

"So, did you think about what I said?" Axel asked casually. They were seated atop the clock tower, feet dangling, eating sea-salt ice cream. It had been a long time since Roxas had come up here to watch the trains run in and out of the station. This was one of those things that belonged to the old days. He should've had Hayner, Pence and Olette lined up here along with him, instead of a redhead he'd known for all of two days.

But then, even they rarely climbed the clock tower anymore.

"What _did _you say?" asked Roxas absently, chewing the ice cream bar's exposed stick while the bright blue confection melted, frozen drips raining down to earth.

Axel made a noise of disapproval. "Yesterday, when I told you to think about what I'd said when I left you. Did you do it? Did you think it through?"

"With my tiny Twilight Town brain? Yes," Roxas admitted. "I thought about it."

The other teen eyed him eagerly. "And?"

Roxas furrowed an eyebrow at him, as the four-thirty train chugged away down below. "And what? What do you want me to say?"

Axel was exasperated. "No epiphanies? No new resolutions, Roxie?"

"Umm…"

This was the side to Axel that had Roxas perplexed. Up here, just the two of them, he was almost a different person to how he acted around others – serious, thoughtful, provocative. It was the flipside of the coin.

He flicked the blond's forehead, groaning. "Come on, Roxas. I know you're in there. So, you thought about what I said – and then what? What happened to the thoughts?"

"They – danced? I don't know." Roxas glared a little. "What do you want from me? Okay, so you managed to point out that I'm some boring little no-brain hick, are you happy now?"

"Roxas." Axel shook his head, grabbed hold of the other boy's shoulder, the heat from his palm passing through Roxas' shirt and into his skin. The redhead fixed him with an imploring look. "There you go again, putting words in my mouth. You've gone all defensive. I don't think you're a boring no-brain hick. If I thought you were one of them… Hell, I wouldn't even be here right now." He shrugged, released the blond, kicked his heels against the side of the building with dull thuds. "I want us to be friends, Rox. I wasn't trying to make you feel bad about yourself, just… trying to enlighten you to the unfamiliar."

Roxas cocked his head to the side, fingers getting sticky as he pulled out the ice cream and turned it up the other way, to let the drips slither towards his mouth. "The unfamiliar?"

Axel nodded, letting his gaze drift over the view of the town. "Yeah. I mean, this place is pretty neat, I like it and all. It's pretty. But, you know, there's a lot more out there than just sweeping hills and a train line. Like I said, you need to expand yourself. There's more out there than you know."

"Well…" Roxas frowned, feeling like maybe his town was under attack from the redhead's mellifluous tongue. "There's the beach, too. We go there sometimes and… and buy pretzels… I mean, it's not like we're all just wasting away here."

"Of course not," Axel hastened to agree. "I just – agh." He let out a frustrated sound. Scratching the back of his wild red spikes, he scrunched his face up. "I'm not doing a very good job of this." He dropped his hands into his lap, thought for a moment. "What I'm doing here," he attempted slowly, "is trying to show you that there's more to life than growing old and dying in your town. I'm trying to say that, I see the rut you're in, and I want to help."

Roxas' ice cream went plummeting, little more than a splintered stick with a smear of cold blue. His mouth hung open slightly, while Axel leaned forward, eyebrows raised, to whistle. "Nearly beaned someone! I wonder if you could spit on people from up here…" Sensing the blond's sudden change of mood, he hesitated, looked up. Uncertainly, he asked, "Roxie? You… okay?"

Roxas had gone pale, his ice-cream tacky fingers gripping the sides of the parapet, knuckles white. He cleared his throat. "I'm fine, Axel." Blue eyes flickered sideways, tentative. "You… want to help me?"

Axel's face went blank for a moment, before breaking into a slow, warm smile. "Yeah. I do. I'm here for you, Roxas."

The blond struggled internally. "I… Is it really… that – obvious?" He frowned, concerned. "I don't want… I mean, my friends, they've never said anything. Do I really seem so unhappy?"

Axel shook his head peaceably, tugging on a blond spike. "You don't seem unhappy, Roxas, just tired and bored. Like maybe this place isn't enough for you. Like maybe – you're restless for more?" He studied the other boy, watched the hesitant nod, the confusion on the golden features.

"I feel bad," Roxas muttered. Suddenly, he felt like there wasn't quite enough air up here – not while the redhead was staring at him like that. "I – I think I'm going to go home now, Axel. Sorry. Thanks for the ice cream."

"Anytime, Rox." Axel swivelled on the wall, not fearing the chasm at his back as he crossed his ankles. "See you at school, huh, mentor?"

Roxas paused, nodded jerkily, slung his backpack up over his shoulder, and left.

Axel didn't try to follow, or ask him to stay. Axel didn't seem bothered by the way he'd blown him off. But then… Axel was Axel. Who knew what was going on in that head?

-------

Roxas was… confused. Out of the redhead's presence, he found his thoughts clearer, no longer stirred up by visions of a different life, but again, the emptiness had returned.

It had only been two days, but Roxas was feeling more shaken by this one person's influence than he had by anything in his life.

That felt wrong. He had a whole history here, all the years of his existence… He should have had a firmer grip on himself than this. He should have been enough of an individual to resist some guy's lilting promises of better places. But maybe… it wasn't the guy himself, it wasn't Roxas just being a pushover – maybe, it was that this was the first person who seemed to notice that… Roxas didn't want – to be here.

Roxas didn't want to be here.

Roxas… wanted a different life to the ones he saw around him. He didn't want to work at the toy store anymore, and he didn't want to be one of the parents buying from it for birthdays and Christmas.

He didn't want to spend every day in a school building, and he didn't want to teach the generations that passed through.

He didn't want to have a home, a wife, a son, and a boss that pushed him too hard.

He wanted… something he'd never seen before.

"The unfamiliar…" The words tasted different, like maybe the air when it pushed from his mouth came from a more exotic place than it had started from.

Roxas turned onto his side on the bed, frowning, feeling the pressure in his chest both subside and tighten. All these thoughts… they disturbed him.

Roxas wasn't sure if enlightenment was even what he wanted.

Perhaps ignorance would be best.

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"What is it about this place that makes you feel like you shouldn't leave?" A warm whisper into the shell of his ear.

Roxas gasped a little, eyes shooting wide as the redhead passed him by, gaze fixed against his own with a smirk. The blond hurried to catch up, clutching his bag to his chest.

"Yes?" Axel asked, amused, as the shorter of the two opened and shut his mouth several times.

"I – " His voice cracked a little, the bewilderment back. "I just…"

"Roxas!"

They stopped, turned to see Hayner stalking through the hall, pushing students out of his path. He looked mad. "Shit," Roxas sighed quietly, not inaudibly enough to keep the redhead from darting him a curious look. He insinuated himself slightly in front of the short blond, flashing a broad, mocking grin at the taller, angry boy.

"Blondie, to what do we owe the pleasure?"

Hayner shot him a frustrated look. "Are you still here?" he snapped irritably. Then, ignoring any answer that might have been forthcoming, he switched his focus to Roxas. "Where were you yesterday?" he demanded. Roxas blinked rapidly, eyebrows furrowing.

"Uh – yesterday?"

Hayner stared at him for a moment, expressionlessly, before his face collapsed into a dark glower. "Are you serious?"

A long, slim hand slid over Roxas' shoulder, squeezing lightly, Axel peering down with a lazy smile. "Roxas was with me yesterday. We were walking around town. Why? Did you two have a play-date planned out?"

Hayner's eyes narrowed into slits. "You fucking asshole," he hissed at the redhead. Then, with no less rage, but some hurt, he turned on Roxas. "Damn it, Roxas, yesterday was the tryouts for this year's Struggle. But you know what?" The anger dissipated, a pained expression coming across the blond's features. "I couldn't even be there. Because you didn't come over and help me finish my work. You said you would. You said you'd vouch for me with my mom. When you didn't turn up, shit, there went my ticket out of there." He shook his head, suddenly looking baffled. "I mean, I know you don't care about the Struggle anymore, but I still do – and you just left me hanging, to go walk around with your new bean-pole best friend? Do I even figure into _anything _anymore?"

"Hey," Axel cut in, while Roxas struggled with guilt and words of apology which wouldn't quite come, "you've got your girlfriend, don't you? I bet Roxas doesn't figure into that little equation, does he?"

"Yeah," Hayner yelled, "because she's my _girlfriend. _You're not his fucking _boyfriend, _Axel, he's not even gay!"

"You don't know that," Axel replied, calmly. "What, did he turn you down or something, Blondie?"

Both boys jumped, eyes wide, Roxas ducking out from under Axel's arm as quickly as if burned. After a moment, Hayner just laughed, and shook his head. He tipped a finger at the redhead, glancing derisively at the astounded blond. "This is what you ditched me for? _This_ fucking moron?"

"Watch yourself, kid," Axel said mildly. "I don't take well to name-calling."

Hayner was staring at Roxas. "You're not going to say anything, are you? He's standing there, insulting me, and you're just watching it all happen, Roxas." He turned his head to the side, features tightening. "Don't bother sitting with us at lunch. I don't think there'll be enough seats." Another brief, bitter laugh. "Three days…" He walked away.

"Hay – Hayner…"

"Oh, finding your voice now?" Axel asked, as the other blond rounded the far corner and disappeared from sight. Roxas snapped out of his daze, glaring.

"Damn it, Axel, why'd you say those things?"

The redhead shrugged. "Didn't seem like you were going to try and stick up for yourself anytime soon."

"I didn't need to! He was mad at me, not picking on me! _Damn." _He smacked himself in the face, digging his nails into the flesh. "I can't believe I forgot yesterday. No wonder he's pissed. I'm such a fucking useless friend."

"No, you're not." Axel frowned at him, removed the hand, pressing down on one of the half-moon creases to try and smooth it away. Roxas looked up at him, eyebrows drawn together, a puzzled expression on his face.

"I don't get you. At all."

"What's to get?" Axel shrugged, releasing him and stepping back. "So maybe you forgot about going to his house to help him cheat his way out past his mom to some dinky little tourno where kids beat each other up with foam bats. Sometimes things come up, and sometimes, people forget stuff. Maybe he needs to learn to depend more upon himself, rather than using you as his so-called ticket out of there."

Roxas drew away, shaking his head slowly. "Three days…" He met Axel's green gaze with consternation. "Don't you think it should be taking me longer than this? I shouldn't be forgetting stuff to go off with someone I hardly know. I should have been with my best friend yesterday afternoon. He loves the Struggle, and I just…"

"Don't let him guilt you, Roxas," Axel warned, taking the boy's face in his hands and angling it up. "It's what he wants. I told you: he needs to learn that just because you're best friends, doesn't give him the right to use you. Besides – aren't you getting a little old for that sort of thing? Aren't you getting a little sick of being the scapegoat in that guy's life?"

"I'm not!" Roxas jerked away angrily. "Damn it – I said it once, I'll say it again: you don't know anything about my life, Axel. Maybe – maybe you see things in me that no one else has bothered to notice, but it doesn't give you the right to – to _confuse _me like this."

The bell rang loudly overhead, interrupting his ire. "Class time, Roxie," Axel said quietly. Roxas shot him a powerful glare, and stalked away, leaving the redhead to trail along behind, sighing, wishing he knew how to not push quite so hard.

-------

The sound of the train passing by overhead filled the world momentarily, blocking out everything else. The dim sunlight filtering through the tracks became a long shadow, with rapid flashes between each carriage. The walls vibrated, setting Roxas' teeth on edge. Then, at long last, the machine clattered away, the sound fading, and peace resumed.

The Usual Spot was empty so far. No one had arrived yet, but they would. It wasn't called 'Usual' for nothing. It had been a while since Roxas had come here – between his after-school job and the homework that had steadily got heavier over the years, he just hadn't found the time or inclination. The other three had continued to manage though. Olette worked part-time in the town library, and Hayner worked at his dad's pharmacy twice a week, and somehow, that didn't mean they had to cut down on each other. Hell, those two were even dating, and he hadn't heard Pence complaining of being neglected. Maybe they were all just better at time management that Roxas was.

Yeah. Maybe that was it.

Or maybe Hayner was right, and Roxas just didn't care enough about them anymore to try. It was a thought that made him feel ill.

Sighing, Roxas tossed his schoolbag into the corner of the hideaway, and flumped down on the ratty old green sofa set along one wall, giving rise to a cloud of dust. Fiddling with his black-and-white chequered wrist band, he tipped his head onto the back of the couch, to let the beams of sun warm the skin of his face and neck. For the first time in a long while, Roxas actually felt himself relaxing. Maybe it was the memories hanging in the air, making him feel a little young again, reminding him that life wasn't some grim march towards the end. There had been a time when this makeshift room, and the people that inevitably filled it, was all he needed to be completely content. When had that changed so violently?

Voices floated into being, stirring him from the light doze he'd slipped into. They came closer, until they were right outside, loud and careless. His three best friends came pushing through the cloth curtain obscuring the doorway, not seeing him for several seconds. When they did, they halted, and all talking ceased. Everyone stared at him.

Roxas fidgeted under the combined force of their gazes. "Um… hi guys," he offered hopefully. "What took you so long?"

Hayner's words were hard. "We went out for a while. It's not like we'd need to let you know."

Olette touched his arm gently, reining him in before he could lose his temper, and fixed Roxas with a quietly frustrated look. "Roxas, it's not like you ever come out with us anymore. I can't remember the last time I saw you sitting in here…" She gave a little laugh. "It almost feels like we're fifteen again."

"Sixteen," Hayner corrected, crossing his arms, frowning. "That was the last time we were all together like we used to be. Sixteen. And then Roxas decided he was too cool for us. Guess he was just waiting for some red-haired freak to come along and complete him."

"Hey, come on, Hayner," Roxas argued, "that's not fair. Axel's got nothing to do with that."

"Hayner, how about you cool off a little?" Pence advised, ever the peace-keeper. "Maybe it has been a while, but we're all here now, right? That's got to be a good sign." He looked over to Roxas, a spark of hope in his puppy-dog brown eyes. "Right?"

Something nervous fluttered in Roxas' stomach. "Right," he agreed. "I mean… I'm here now."

Olette smiled, and gave Hayner a little shake. "So? What do you say to that?"

Apparently, the other blond wasn't willing to let him off so easy. "What about _Axel?" _He sneered the name, as if it were something to be spat on. Roxas flinched.

"Axel's my friend," he murmured. "But… he shouldn't have said those things to you, and… I told him so."

"Oh, sure, _after _I left. God _save_ you from showing any sort of solidarity with your best friend in front of your _boyfriend."_

"Hayner," Olette scolded.

"He's not my boyfriend," Roxas responded, irritated. "He just… Look." He deliberately calmed himself, took a couple deep breaths. "I came here to be with you guys. I figured out that I've been sort of neglecting you lately, and I want to make it up to you. I don't need new friends, I don't need new – anything. I just need to remember what used to make life so fun, and maybe then I'll stop being such a whiny little bitch all the time. Okay?"

Olette had tears in her eyes, a trembling smile in place. She clutched Hayner's arm tightly, then released him and crossed the dusty floor to where Roxas sat. Standing in front of him, hands on hips, she asked, "You mean that, Roxas?"

Unease. Butterflies. Kind of… sick. "Yeah, I do."

Her smile grew, and she threw herself onto the blond, wrapping her thin arms around his neck, making him choke. "O – _Olette…!"_

She hugged him close, sniffling, grinning over to where Pence sat on the other chair. "We missed you, Roxas," she said, through her tears and beaming, a summer shower. "You never stopped being our best friend, but you drifted away from us." She sat back, situated on his lap, and wiped at her face. "To hear you say you want to try again – that makes me so happy!"

"Yeah," Pence enthused. "It can be like old times! You'll get the hang of it, Roxas, you just need to remember how much fun we used to have!"

"And the bean-pole?" Hayner asked sceptically. His arms were still crossed, foot tapping, not entirely pleased with Olette's tactile pleasure, but smart enough to realise it wasn't a slight against him.

Roxas shifted uncomfortably, wilting under his friends' expectant looks. "Well…" he said slowly, "I'm still friends with him, if that's what you mean. I'm not going to stop liking him, even if he can be… a little thoughtless at times. He – he understands me."

"We understand you," Hayner replied bluntly. "You really don't need him."

Roxas glared. "Well, I'm not going to just ditch him. I like him, he _is _my friend, even if we've only known each other for three days. But – " He hesitated. "I'm not going to ditch you guys, either. And… and I'm sorry for forgetting about yesterday." He met Hayner's hazel eyes regretfully. Olette twisted her neck, also looking at him, the smile becoming a request, emerald eyes beseeching. Everyone knew how Hayner could be, they all knew what his grudges could be like. But they also knew he was a sucker for an apology, and in the year that they'd been going out, his girlfriend.

The dirty-blond teen sighed. "Yeah?"

Roxas nodded earnestly. "I swear, Hayner. It won't happen again."

"Yeah, no shit, the Struggle doesn't take place again until next _year," _he muttered. Then he shook his head. "Buuut – I guess I can forgive you this one mistake." He pointed a finger firmly at his friend. "But so help me, if bean-pole tells me I'm gay for you again, I'm kicking his ass. And tell him, the next time he tries to interfere in one of our _discussions, _to keep his nose out of where it doesn't belong."

Roxas agreed, relieved. "It's a deal."

Hayner looked undecided for a moment, then smiled. "Cool." Olette gave a happy laugh, and hugged Roxas again, letting him pat her awkwardly on the back while Hayner smirked.

"So, what now?" the blond asked, blue eyes darting around the familiar surroundings.

"Now? We do what we always do." Pence shrugged, gave a wicked little grin. "We try to take over the world."


	3. Chapter 3

**A/N: **As yet, I'm not quite happy with the chapter lengths. I like to find an average between five- and eight-thousand words, and have yet to breach six-thousand. However, I figure that'll pick up once the plot gets going. At the moment, we're really still in the introductory stage. Thanks for all the reviews coming in, guys, I'm loving them! Look forward to hearing your thoughts on this one.

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CHAPTER THREE

Roxas was pulled from slumber by a noise. _Tock. _But not just one noise. _Tock, tock. _No, it had to be a whole _series_ of noises, over the space of five minutes. _Tock. _

His eyes cracked open, rolling blearily around as he struggled back to consciousness, tugged insistently out of dreams by the incessant sound.

It was low. And quiet. And un_ceasing. _

"What. The fuck?"

_Tock, tock. Tock._

It took a minute for Roxas to realise that it wasn't some remnant of his sleeping mind, the noise was an external sort of thing. He rasped out a moan, rolling onto his side.

_Tock._

"Oh, man…" He blinked for a while, then sat, arms weak, slinging his legs over the side of the mattress, rubbing kittenishly at his eyes. _Tock. _He glanced around the room, still as ever, in the exact state he'd left it. _Tock, tock. _"What is that fucking _noise?" _he hissed. _Tock. _His head snapped up. It was coming from – the window?

He climbed up to his feet, shuffled drunkenly over to the curtains, twitching them aside to peer down in bemusement at the street.

"Oh, you're fucking _kidding _me."

He debated for a moment, then reached up to unlatch the window and pushed it silently outward. Cold night air swirled in, ruffling his blond spikes. Gripping the sill, he leaned out, eyebrows knitted together, wild-eyed. Voice a loud whisper, he called, _"Axel?"_

Said redhead, who was currently bent over scouring the pavement for more pebbles, straightened sharply. He seemed startled for a second, before breaking out into a broad grin. He dropped the rocks, wiped his hands on his jeans, and waved.

"_Roxie," _he hissed excitedly. _"How's it going?"_

Roxas stared in consternation. "Are – are you fucking _insane?" _Axel's expression fell a little. "Axel…" Roxas shoved back inside, glanced over at the clock on the nightstand, jaw dropping. He pushed back through the curtain, to see Axel looking disheartened. _"Axel! It's three AM!" _

He perked up upon seeing the blond's return. "It is?"

Roxas' eyes grew wider still. "Are you _stoned _or something?"

Axel shook his head frantically, waving his hands for emphasis. "No, no – I just couldn't sleep. I – I wanted to see you."

Roxas drooped a little, catching his chin in his hand, elbows on the window sill, clutching his face as if it would, at any moment, fly apart. "Axel, remember the narcolepsy joke? _It still applies. _I'm really fucking tired, and you're throwing stones at my window at three AM, like this is some kind of _Tom fucking Sawyer book." _

He looked _really _discouraged now. "Oh, well… Are you coming down?"

"_Am I… Am I - ?" _Deep breaths. At this rate, someone was going to notice the ruckus going on, even if it was in whispers. He didn't want his parents waking up and being introduced to his new friend as their friendly neighbourhood _stalker. _He uncovered his eyes, calling resignedly, "I'm coming down."

He drew the window shut, shifting the curtain out of the way, and threw on a jacket over his bed outfit. Opening the door to his room, he listened intently for a minute. Satisfied that no one was stirring, he emerged into the hall and carefully descended the stairs. In anticipation of the chill, he drew the jacket tighter around his chest and throat, and quietly unlocked the deadbolts to the front door. Again, with a cold wind gasping through the gap, he waited, an ear out for murmurs from above. Nothing.

He took a deep breath, exhaled through his nose, and slipped outside. Axel was waiting by the side of the house, doused in shadow, a bright smile in place. "So, you came after all!"

"Let's walk," Roxas growled. "I don't need my parents hearing us."

The pavement was like ice underfoot, little stones digging into the soft flesh of his soles as they wandered around the block. Roxas tipped his head back, inhaling the cool night air, inspecting the stars. "How do you know where I live?" he asked, throat still rough from slumber. When Axel didn't reply, he lowered his face, cheeks flushed from the chill, scowling. "I asked a question. Did you actually follow me home?"

"No," Axel mumbled.

"No? Then tell me." Still nothing. Roxas, growing concerned, insisted, "How do you know where I live, Axel?"

The redhead sighed, hands shoved deep into his pockets. "Look, Roxas, it's nothing to get paranoid over, okay? The school told me, when they made you my mentor. Apparently, we only live a few blocks apart, so they told me your address. Okay?"

"And you didn't say this before, why?" Roxas prompted, earning an annoyed look.

"Because, you're making me feel like the world's creepiest stalker, Roxie. I didn't want to give you fuel for that."

"You turned up at my house at three in the morning," Roxas reminded him, snuggling deeper into his coat. "I think I'm entitled to make you feel however I damn please."

"Fine, fair enough." Green eyes rolled. "So if you're so ticked off with me, why'd you even come down?"

Roxas snorted incredulously. "Like you gave me a choice?"

Axel halted, shoulders hunching, fixing the blond with an intense stare. "I'm not making you stay out here. If you want to go home, go. I'm not going to tackle you into the bushes."

"But I'm _out _here now," the blond grumbled. "We might as well circle the block. And didn't you say you wanted to see me?"

Axel's head tilted to the side. He smiled slightly. "Yeah. I guess I did."

The continued walking. Roxas glanced over at the redhead, who, just as he had been before, was gazing at the sky. "So, uh, Axel?"

"Mm?"

Roxas fidgeted. "Why _did _you want to see me?"

"Why?" The other seemed surprised by this question, almost unnerved. "Well – I just wanted to. No real reason. Should there be?"

"Well…" Roxas frowned. "I mean, considering the hour and all… Did you just – not know what to do at three in the morning?"

"What, and figured, 'hey, I know! Roxas' place is around here somewhere!'?" He arched a brow, shrugged. "It was more just that I couldn't sleep. I felt like a bit of a douche for acting like I did today, and wanted to come make sure everything was cool between us. You didn't even wait for me after school, just ran off towards town."

"I – I had to see Hayner. Had to make things right again."

Axel nodded, pointing a finger at him. "That's it exactly! That's what I'm doing here."

"So – you're here to say sorry?"

"For what?" Axel snorted, before slapping a hand to his face. "Okay, so, yeah. Not great at the apology stuff." He heaved a breath as they rounded a corner. "Honestly, I still stand by what I said today – I don't think you should let that guy push you around like he does – but I also would rather still be friends with you than try and fight my way to being right. Okay?"

Roxas sorted this out in his mind, smiled a little, nodded. "Sure."

Axel grinned happily, slinging an arm around the shorter teen's shoulders. "I'm glad to hear it, Roxie." He gave him a little squeeze. "So did your meeting with Hayner go as successfully as this one?"

Roxas squirmed a little, turning his head away, pretending to be interested in the garden they were passing. "Yeah, it went fine."

"Uh-huh… So, that little thing you did just then, was that because I'm touching you, or because you just told me a big, fat lie?"

Roxas was startled. "Wh-what? Lie? Me?"

Axel laughed, too loudly for the time of night, in a quiet, sleepy neighbourhood. "I guess I can take that as my answer, which, I have to say, makes me very happy."

Roxas scowled. "Why should that make you happy?"

"It means," Axel brought him down to the blond's ear, "that you don't mind me touching you."

"Did I _say _that?"

"You haven't pushed me off yet."

Roxas sulked. "It's cold out, and you're warm, okay? I'm not homophobe enough to go freeze half to death just because I'm scared of some boy cooties."

Axel straightened, giving him an inscrutable look. "You're scared of boy cooties?"

"_No." _Roxas wore a pinch-eyed, long-suffering expression. "I am _not _afraid of _boy cooties." _

"What if I kissed you?" The green eyes were laser-focused again. When Roxas looked up, whatever scathing retort that had pooled on his tongue fell away into his suddenly dry throat.

All he managed was a croaky, "Kissed me?"

"Mmm." Axel was suddenly very – close. They had ceased walking, were just – standing there, in the middle of the sidewalk. Roxas wasn't feeling too cold anymore, even though the redhead had shifted around in front of him. The long, tapered fingers slid slowly down the sides of his arms, their touch light. He hooked a finger under the blond's chin and craned his neck back, so they were face-to-face. "Well?"

"I'd – there's no such thing as cooties," said Roxas blankly. Axel blinked for a moment, then smiled.

"That's correct, Roxas. There's not." He leaned down to press his lips against the blond's, only to have the elusive creature let out a startled squeak and jump back.

"Three days!" he exclaimed, heart pounding, eyes wide. He held up the same amount of fingers, shakily. "Three!"

Axel nodded slowly. "I see them."

"Three days, Axel!"

"Okay."

"I – I can't kiss you."

"You _won't _kiss me. There's a difference."

Roxas shook his head frantically. "Don't – I – isn't it enough that in the space of – of three days, you've made me question so much already? You can't – make me question _this _yet. Not yet."

There was something akin to fear in the boy's eyes, softening the rejection. Axel nodded again, in understanding. "Okay, Rox. It won't happen again."

Roxas didn't think that that was the answer he was looking for, but it was enough, for now. Bewildered, pressured by he didn't know what, he said, "We should keep going. I need to get back to bed."

Axel met up with him, and they continued, this time keeping their bodies to themselves. Five houses from their destination, Axel's watch beeped. He froze, Roxas passing him by several steps before realising he was walking alone. He paused, turned inquisitively. "Axel?"

Axel was looking at his watch. "Uh, in a second, Rox." He glanced up, features tight. "Look – sorry you drag you out and then bail on you, but I really need to go. I didn't – realise the time. We'll both be dead tomorrow after all this moonlight walking. So – sorry." He was already backing away. Roxas followed, concerned.

"Is everything okay? You look worried…"

"I'm fine! Really! Just – go on home, Roxie. I'll see you tomorrow – okay?" He hesitated. "And – sorry. About before. I don't – think very often."

Roxas shook his head. "Forget about it."

Axel let out a choked laugh and a grin. "Forget that? No way. You're too damn cute, especially up close like that. So, yeah." Another anxious glance at his watch, a hasty wave. "I'll see you round."

The redhead jogged away, almost running, leaving Roxas by himself in the cold air. Frowning, he wrapped his arms around his body, gazing out at the empty road for a while, before finally turning back for home.

-------

Axel was only a little late the next day, looking pale from their encounter under the stars. Roxas found himself watching the redhead closely, a new interest swimming in his veins. So – all that flirting, it hadn't just been Axel being a jerk. He had tried to kiss him last night, and he wanted to be his friend… Did this mean that Axel liked him? God, he could only imagine what Hayner's reaction would be if they _did _end up getting together. All the 'told-you-so' in the world wouldn't even begin to make it up.

Roxas had kept the desk next to him clear, and as the redhead walked into class, shyly gestured him over. Axel hesitated, then smiled. He loped over, darting the teacher an apologetic glance, and folded himself into the chair. After keeping quiet for the first few minutes, in which the teacher continued to glower at the disruption, Axel whispered, "Thanks for the seat."

Roxas shrugged, focusing on his papers. "No problem. You get home okay last night?"

Axel ran a hand through his hair, a grimace forming. "Yeah, it was fine."

Roxas shot him a curious glance. "What, did you get caught?"

Axel smirked suddenly, shaking his head. "Nah, I made it, just. It was a close one, though."

"Oh. Parents light sleepers?"

Axel went still, then nodded slowly. "Sure." He hunched over his work, apparently intent on concentrating.

Well, if he'd been trying to not draw attention to himself… pretending to want to work wasn't doing anything but make Roxas stare.

"Subtle," he whispered, at which Axel made an impatient gesture, scowling into his book. Wondering, faintly suspicious, Roxas shrugged and followed suit. They didn't speak for the rest of the lesson.

On the way to English, Roxas had to ask, "What was up with you back there?"

"Hmm?" Axel glanced innocently over.

"That whole thing when I mentioned your parents…"

"Oh. It's nothing." The redhead shrugged. Roxas frowned.

"It didn't seem like nothing. You totally ignored me the whole rest of the lesson."

Axel leered. "Oh, was Roxie feeling neglected? I can always make you feel better…" He leaned close, voice dropping the customary, seductive octave as he breathed, "No really, I can."

Roxas scowled, punched him in the chest. "Get off me, perv. If you don't want to talk about it, fine."

Rubbing his sternum, Axel withdrew, toning down to a smile. "It's not a big deal, Roxas. I just prefer to not talk about my family – okay?"

Curiosity aroused, but mindful of the other teen, he nodded. "Okay, sure." He glanced up hopefully. "Someday, though?"

Axel slowed slightly, a calculative look coming into his eyes. One corner of his mouth lifted. "Someday," he agreed. "No problem."

They entered the English room and took their seats.

"Okay, today you guys get a new assignment," announced the teacher, perched on the back of her chair facing them all, rocking slightly on the heels of her pumps. "It makes up fifteen percent of your grade, so listen up! I want you forming constructive groups within your senior year – so that means you can do this with the other classes – and do a ten-thousand word write-up of your choice on something to do with Twilight Town. It can be about anything, the town founders, the production of sea-salt ice cream, the construction of the clock tower – it's entirely up to you. You have a week to complete it."

"A _week?"_

She held up a hand, forestalling protests. "You can split up the research, whatever you like, but yes, a week. It's really not hard, you guys. You get four people doing two-point-five k words each, and there's your assignment ready to hand in. Okay?" No further objections were made. "Okay! Get to it!"

Axel swivelled in his chair, grinning. "Sounds fun."

Roxas stared. "What, are you nuts? Easy, sure, but fun?"

The redhead shrugged. "I like history, so shoot me. Aren't you meant to be all proud of your town's heritage, or some shit like that?"

Roxas snorted. "Says the man who wants me to expand my interests outside of Twilight Town."

"It's always good to know your surroundings," Axel retorted. "If there's anything I've learned, it's that you keep an eye out, and things'll be fine."

"Well," sighed Roxas, "I don't see how researching sea-salt ice cream is going to help me anytime in the near future, unless I quit the toy store to become an ice-cream man."

"That," Axel pointed a firm finger, "would be so fucking cool. Man, the music alone would have me hooked."

Roxas gave him a weird look. "You're… definitely not normal, Axel."

The redhead rocked back, fingers steepled, adopting a sage expression. "Ah, yes, one of my many, many, many, many traits."

"Many," Roxas added, reaching down to pull out his workbook. He propped it on his knees, clicking out a pen, then looked over expectantly. "Okay, so what are we doing?" He made a face. "Or is that a stupid question to be asking the new guy?"

"Very possibly," Axel agreed, leaning his elbow on the desk, fingers drumming the side, "but I'm not just any old new guy, now am I? I am in fact – " He bent forward sharply, green eyes piercing. "A new guy with an idea."

"Idea being?"

"I've heard a rumour," Axel said casually, lounging back against the chair, crossing an ankle over one knee. "Well, seven rumours, really." His eyes flashed up to Roxas'. "The seven wonders of Twilight Town."

Roxas was sceptical. "The seven what's of where?"

"Oh, come _on, _Roxas!" He slapped a hand against the desk, formed a fist with it. "This is your freaking town! Seven wonders of Twilight Town! There's like, seven whole different types of weird freaky shit going down in Twilight Town, and I propose that _we _be the ones to uncover it!" He sat forward eagerly. "Come on, Roxie, think about it, it'll be cool. No one else is doing it."

"Because no one else knows about it," Roxas responded, one brow hiking up. "Are you sure you didn't just dream this, or make it up?"

"I am one hundred percent certain," Axel confirmed. "A hundred and ten percent, on a good day."

"I see." Roxas tapped an index finger against his book. "Okay, so tell me about these supposed wonders."

Axel counted them off on his fingers. "Okay, I heard some dumbshit with a neck thicker around than my thigh saying there's something weird with the stairs at Sunset Station; I heard something about balls flying out of a wall – mind out of the gutter, Roxie." Roxas spluttered, while Axel continued, ticking off his middle finger. "Keeping to the smut, I hear there's some moaning that comes randomly out of some tunnel, I don't know about you, but it sounds pretty fucking awesome to me; there's a water fountain that gives weird reflections – totally your territory, I once did one of those Bloody Mary things, shit-all happened, but I'm now scared for life; there's a train that goes with no one driving; and then there's a ghost bag on Sunset Hill."

"Ghost bag…"

"Apparently it jumps around. We should charge people for rides, like they do with ponies. You wouldn't even have to feed it! Because it's a bag!"

"…Right. Okay, and the seventh wonder?"

Axel gave him a blank look. "Hm?"

"That was… You only said six things. What's the seventh?"

"Oh! Right, that, the seventh wonder – that's some haunted mansion on the outskirts of town. Heard of it?"

Roxas was suddenly interested. "That, I actually have heard of. Even the haunted theory. So, okay, interesting – what do we do, research the mansion's history?"

"Pfft, fuck that." Axel flipped a hand carelessly. "We're not researching the _mansion, _we're researching the _ghosts. _We'll just turn up and see what we can see."

"Uh…huh." Roxas was once again unconvinced. "And what do we do if it turns out this is all just for nothing? Those seven wonders sound pretty damn lame, Axel."

The redhead groaned at the pessimism. "We can still write about all the hard work we did, and the pretty fresh air we breathed, can't we? It's still about Twilight Town." Axel clasped his hands together, pleadingly. "Please, Roxas? I really wanna do this! It'll be so much more fun than sitting around reading books and looking at microfilms."

Well, that was true. They'd have a week to roam around Twilight Town finding out about all these supposed phenomena, however sketchy it sounded. They could draw up some decent plans, that'd take up at least a thousand words… Axel, seeing the blond begin to crack, clapped his hands with glee.

"This is gonna be great, Rox! You, me, the little outdoors – it'll be _awesome."_

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"Roxas! You heard about the English assignment, right? You're in our group, aren't you?"

Roxas froze, mid-step. Axel was over in the lunch-line, no doubt stocking up on more orgasm fries, and the others were already waiting at the regular table. They looked… happy to see him. It had been a while since they'd welcomed him so warmly.

Then Pence had asked _that_ question.

His blue eyes widened with comprehension. The seniors were allowed to work with each other, regardless of class separation. And he'd planned to do the whole thing with…

"Come on, Roxas," Hayner insisted, sensing the blond's discomfort. "You're with us, right?"

Roxas squirmed. "Uh… well – "

A hand smoothed over his lower back briefly, making him jump. "Of course, me and Roxie would love to join your group." Axel grinned down at them all, before turning to Roxas. "Right, Rox?" He looked back at the others before the blond could respond. "We were hoping you guys hadn't just formed a threesome."

"We wouldn't do that!" Olette protested. "Of course we'd want you guys in our group!"

"Awesome, then," said Axel happily. He slid down into his chair, today with a sloppy-looking burger. "Roxie, take a seat, you give any more of that statue impression and birds are gonna come shit on you."

Hayner was less than impressed. "See, in my mind, when I asked Roxas if he was joining our group, I expected him to _not _have this red-haired extra appendage coming along for the ride."

"Deal, Blondie, cuz you're stuck with me," Axel replied sharply. He took a large bite of burger, glaring at the other blond. Hayner turned to his best friend.

"Roxas?" he whined. Roxas finally came back to life, sitting down beside Axel, and shook his head firmly.

"Axel's part of the group. He's even got a really good idea."

Axel arched an eyebrow. "You think so?"

"_Yes," _confirmed the blond. "But – " He raised a finger at his friends. "We're not telling you what it is until tomorrow. Meet at the Usual Spot, ten o'clock. Dress for sunshine, and walking."

"What, are we drawing our own map or something?"

"Hey, that's a pretty neat idea," Olette enthused.

"No," glared Roxas. "No map. Just meet us there tomorrow, and you'll find out."

Hayner shot a sceptical look over at the redhead. "You're expecting us to show up without a clue of what we're doing, except that bean-pole over there's the one that came up with it?"

"It has the Roxas stamp of approval," Axel sniffed. "What more do you need?"

"_You _have the Roxas stamp of approval. I'm thinking, next birthday, I'm buying Roxas some new stamps."

Roxas shook his head, bringing out his lunch. "Have a little faith, Hayner. It'll be cool, you'll see."

Axel grinned, tugging one of the blond's spikes.

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Roxas was at work, behind the till, trying to ignore the pounding headache forming behind his eyes as loud, happy music played over the store's stereo system. He had his Biology book out, finger pressed against the page as he attempted to follow the lines of writing, a pink highlighter poised to sweep key sentences.

"_Tickle me!"_

"_I wuv oo!"_

"_Crush – kill – DESTROY!"_

"_It's a small world after allll!"_

Patience was a virtue. Patience was a virtue.

"_Roxie!"_

Patience was a goddamn, fucking virtue.

A jagged line of pink appearing on the page as his chin fell off his hand, Roxas lifted his face in surprise and dismay. Axel sauntered across the store, to come lean against the counter.

"Don't you have a home to go to? Or some schoolwork to do?"

Axel pouted. "Is that any way to welcome your English partner?"

Roxas cocked his head to the side, eyes narrowed suspiciously. "…This is an English visit?"

"Well… we're _speaking _English, aren't we?"

Roxas buried his face in his arms, voice muffled as he moaned, "What do you _want, _Axel?"

Pale fingers swept through the short spikes at the back of his head, a gentle gesture that sent shivers through his nerve endings. Rolling his shoulders to get the sensation away, Roxas straightened again, uneasily. Again, quietly now, he asked, "What do you want?"

Axel studied him for a moment. "I came to say hi."

A slight blush faintly stained the blond's cheeks, but was overpowered by the frustrated expression in place. "Axel, I'm working. I'm both at work, and using these precious few seconds that no one seems to need me studying for the biology exam next week. Can't you save the hi for some other, less hectic time?"

"Excuse me, young man – this doll doesn't appear to have a price on it – can you tell me how much it costs?"

Roxas reached out, pushed Axel none too gently to the side, fixing a tight smile in place for the customer. "Of course, ma'am, let me see that." He took the box, flipped it over in search of the price tag, then scanned it to see what the computer said. "It's twenty-five ninety-five."

"Ah, that's a little out of my range. Thank you anyway."

Roxas slid out from behind the counter, taking the toy back to its shelf, straightening the display while he was there. By the time he returned to the register, the redhead was nowhere to be seen. Seemed like maybe, for once in his brief appearance in Roxas' life, he'd actually listened to what the blond had to say. Good thing? Bad thing? Who really cared, when there was a kid scattering white sherbet over the pick-up trucks in aisle two?

Grabbing a dustpan and brush, he jogged quickly over, searching for the boy's mother. The kid was sucking on his fingers, each step spilling more powder over the thin carpet. "Roy, come on, we're not buying a truck today. We're here for a present for Katie's birthday party, remember?"

"Excuse me, ma'am, no food or drink in the store," Roxas called. She came along, taking away the kid's sugar with an apologetic smile and a scolding, while Roxas hunkered down and quickly swept up the mess. He loped back to the counter, reseating himself upon the stool, and ran a hand over his face. Darting a quick glance around to see if anyone was trying to engage his attention, or seemed about to, he picked up his highlighter and tried to resume where he'd left off.

"Hey, kid, how much is this thing?"

A little pre-wrapped package was dropped under his nose, a mess of leftover Christmas paper and angry sticky tape, from when Roxas had had to personally wrap over two hundred 'lucky dip' pieces of crap that sat in the large box near the register. If people could see what they were beforehand, they wouldn't waste the money, but something about being a kid made them all want to buy these mystery presents.

He raised his eyes to Axel's, incredulous. "More than you'd want to spend," he advised, after a pregnant pause.

"If it means mixing business with pleasure, then I'll buy it." Axel tugged out his wallet, flipping it open. "So tell me, young man, how much to buy this lovely little Christmassy-looking thing?"

"Two-fifty," the blond replied automatically, before raising an eyebrow. "Business with pleasure?"

"This way," Axel smiled, "I get to say hi, without distracting you from your job – since I'm making you _do _your job." He propped an elbow onto the counter, holding out the money, adding suavely, "Clever, no?"

Roxas snorted a laugh. "No. You just wasted two-fifty, and now you have to leave my store anyway." Axel stepped back and pulled apart the paper, withdrawing a bright yellow yo-yo, the plastic so cheap it was almost see-through.

He darted Roxas a wry look. "I'll cherish it always."

"Make sure it works okay," Roxas said, shifting off his stool as a woman down aisle four called for assistance. "Sometimes the string gets caught in the middle, and it's useless."

By the time he helped the woman choose her purchase, a model train for her ten-year-old nephew, Axel had the yo-yo untangled, and was looping it up and down from his finger with a look of intense concentration. Roxas couldn't help the grin that broke out across his features. "You're not half-bad at that. Know any tricks?"

"Huh, tricks? Not likely." The yo-yo chose that moment to bottom out, drawing a muttered curse from the redhead. "It's a damn miracle I got it going in the first place. How do you sleep at night, selling pieces of crap like this?"

"On a big pile of minimum wage. You buying anything else for the pleasure of my company, or are you leaving now?"

Disgruntled, Axel shook his head. "I'm out of cash."

Roxas toyed with his pen, colouring the corner of the page of his textbook. "So, you're coming tomorrow, right? You can come to my place first, and I'll take you there."

"Sure, Roxie, sounds good. I'll be there at quarter-to, okay?"

"Yeah. Axel?"

The redhead glanced up from his task of winding the yo-yo back to its beginning. "What?"

"Don't come and wake me up tonight, again, alright? I'm just about dying from tiredness right now."

Axel gave his hair an affectionate ruffle. "Don't worry, Roxie, it was a one-time screw-up. I won't do it again – you need your sleep." He scrunched up the ball of Christmas paper in his hand, and tossed it onto the counter. "Take care, okay, Roxie?"

His watch went off into its familiar series of shrill beeps, causing him to scowl. "Looks like I don't have a choice in the matter, anyway. I'll see you tomorrow, Roxas, bright and early."

"Don't be late!" Roxas called to his retreating back. "The last thing I need is Hayner getting pissy at me again!"

"Yeah, yeah." A hand flapped over his shoulder, and he was gone, leaving Roxas to face the glaring mother and her sherbet-ridden son.

"Language, _please," _she snapped. Roxas nodded sheepishly.

"Sorry, won't happen again."

He scanned their purchase, flipped them off as they left, and got back to his studying.


	4. Chapter 4

**A/N: **Cooool. I can feel it getting smoother – I'm starting to get into this plot. It's starting to get fun :) Not a whole heap to say this time, except that the reviews are awesome, and I hope you continue liking the story!

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CHAPTER FOUR

"Where were you?" The voice was cold, anger iced over from the boiling point it had peaked at so many hours ago.

Axel halted, head sinking, a glower springing to life across his face. He hunched over, hands digging deep into his pockets. He was tired, and sore, and cold. He just wanted to go to bed. "I've been around," he muttered, not turning to face the woman behind him.

"I _know _where you've _been,_ Axel." She crossed the distance between them, seized his arm to jerk him around, violet eyes blazing. He met her gaze flatly.

"Kairi, get off me."

"The thing _is, _you were supposed to be back _hours ago!" _

He shook free of her grasp, glaring defensively. "Okay, so I hung around a little longer than I first planned. I'm just trying to be thorough, okay?"

Kairi stepped back, blinking, then frowned, baffled. "Do you – expect me to believe that?" She shook her head. "Axel, please – this is me, okay? Don't play dumb, because you know I don't buy that."

"Whatever you say, Kai." Axel rolled his eyes, moved his body in an echo of the motion by turning and walking away down the long hallway. The shorter girl had to run to catch up, red-wine hair glinting in the harsh overhead light.

"Axel, it's almost midnight." Her voice had taken on a pleading tone, as she jogged alongside his quick stride. She gripped his wrist, tugged on him, trying to slow down. "Why did you have to stay out so long? You know someone's going to _notice, _Axel!"

The redhead stopped with a sharp sigh, fixing her with an irritated look. "Kairi, seriously, there's nothing to worry about. There's nothing _to _notice, except that I'm obviously doing my best to pull this off."

She pushed in front of him, spread her arms to press her hands against each wall of the narrow corridor, blocking it off. "That's a _lie," _she stated, scowling. "You were trying to get close to Roxas again."

"Yeahhh…" He bent low, eyebrows raised, giving her a look like she was an idiot. "That's kind of the whole _point _of it all, Kairi dear."

She shook her head, despairingly. "It's not, and you know it." She met his gaze worriedly. "Why can't you just wait? It shouldn't be that long before he's out…"

Axel's head bowed, the frown in place acknowledging her point. "I know," he said softly, roughly. "But… I…"

"Axel, _please." _She placed a gentle hand on his forearm, squeezing lightly. Her wide eyes darted across his features, willing good sense into him. "If he's as anxious as you've said, it shouldn't be long at _all… _Until then, can't you – can't you just hold back? Just a little?"

"But… he _likes _me, Kai, I know he does…"

She touched his face, smiling slightly. "I'm sure he does. What's not to like? But – that won't do either of you any good if you get called off and replaced… Right?"

Axel sighed. "Yeah. I know."

"You've been watching him a long time, I know," the girl continued quietly. "But he's not going anywhere. Don't blow this one chance, okay, Axel? You don't want him getting attached to someone else, do you?"

"No!" The man's green eyes widened, he fervently shook his head. "I'd hate that!"

She straightened, gave a curt nod. "Then restrain yourself. It's all you can do." She stepped back, to let him pass. "Don't forget to set your watch, okay? And Axel – " The redhead turned questioningly, fingers already touching the sides of the timepiece. Kairi's eyes were hard. "If I ever find you've taken it off, I'll kill you. I really will."

Axel held her gaze for a long, disconcerted moment. "Sure, Kairi."

He quietly took himself off to bed, making certain to set his watch before falling asleep.

He thought of the blond, of the next day, and wondered if he'd really be able to keep all the promises he'd made.

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Roxas had his alarm set for nine, but woke up two minutes beforehand, so as to not have to endure the hideous beeping that would come when it went off. Deactivating it, yawning widely, he shoved back the blankets and crawled out into the cool Saturday air.

Today was the first day of the project. He wondered how Hayner would react when he heard about Axel's idea… It's not like even Roxas had halfway liked it, before he mentioned the mansion, and Roxas was Axel's _friend. _But still, it was fun, and kind of nutty, and like the redhead said, at least they wouldn't be all cooped up reading library books. It was – interactive learning.

If you could call the pursuit of supernatural stupidity even vaguely educational.

Shivering in boxers and a t-shirt, he stumbled down the hall to have a hot shower, slumping against the tiles while the needles of water thrummed against him, steam swirling through his lungs. Hopping out, fresher now, hair curling slightly, he dried off, got dressed, and headed down for breakfast. Today was his mother's day off, so she had waffles waiting on the table for him. She sat on the opposite side, her own breakfast eaten, plate discarded to one side, jotting down a shopping list. "Morning, honey. Need anything from the store?" she asked distractedly.

Roxas sat, fork already digging into the latticed sweet bread as he said, "Mocha powder. I'm all out."

She lifted her head, nose scrunching. "You mean that nasty stuff you say tastes like coffee, but actually it tastes like… not-coffee?"

Roxas rolled his eyes. "Mom, eloquent as ever, yes, I want that stuff."

"You know, we _have _a percolator…"

"I like my instant mocha."

She shrugged, sucking in through her nose and sighing out through her mouth. "Fine, if my son wants his mocha, I guess he gets his mocha…"

"Thanks, mom." He was preoccupied with thoughts of the coming day, hoping he wouldn't have to spend too much time alone with Hayner… Just that thought made him want to cut his palms with his nails… This was his _best friend – _but Axel was his friend, too, and all he could think about was Hayner at the Usual Spot the other afternoon, asking why Roxas bothered with the redhead, asking, when no one was listening, why he didn't just ditch his new friend and come back to the old. Hayner didn't like Axel – he didn't want Roxas to, either.

Axel… again, Axel was right.

"…_aren't you getting a little old for that sort of thing?"_

Shouldn't they have got beyond this symbiotic sort of relationship by now? They were eighteen years old. They didn't need to love all the same stuff just to keep being best friends… But maybe the concept of 'best' friends was getting outdated now, too – why couldn't they just be close? Why couldn't – Roxas have a whole flock of close friends?

Why did it need to be status quo, day in, day out, in order to be okay?

"Honey?" A hand found his brow, testing for a temperature. His mother frowned. "You _feel_ fine." She moved the cool, feminine hand to his cheek, cupping his face as she leaned over the table, scrutinising his expression. "You look troubled, honey. Is everything okay?"

"Mom…" Roxas stared down at the table. "What would you say if… I wanted to move out sometime? Out of home, I mean."

The hand snatched away. She was surprised, concerned. "Baby, you don't have to leave home until you're ready… and you're _certainly _not leaving until you're a legal adult."

"Why?" Roxas looked up at her, not feeling particularly rebellious or contentious – just wanting answers. "What's so wrong about me leaving? Leaving… Twilight Town?"

She was at a loss, shaking her head slowly. "Where's all this coming from, Roxas? Are you in some kind of trouble…?"

He looked back down, stabbing at his waffle with a frown. "No, mom. I'm not in trouble. It's okay, I was just… wondering."

She was silent for a while, watching her sun-kissed child pick at his food. "Are you seeing your friends today?"

"Of course. I always go out with them on Saturday, don't I?"

She frowned at the darkness lacing his tone. "Well… I'm going to the store now. I'll be sure to bring you home something, okay? I'll bring you something nice. And maybe tonight we can rent a movie, if you're home in time?" She stood, circling the table to stand behind him, small hands resting on his shoulders, bringing down a burden of guilt upon the blond. His eyes slipped shut, the fork sagging in his slackening fingers, as she bent and pecked him on the temple. He caught a whiff of her perfume… She smelled like mom. When had that become a stifling thing? And why did it make him want to bust out crying, and ask her to make things better?

"Okay, mom."

She sifted a hand through his hair, then left the room. A few minutes later, he heard her car pull out of the driveway. He sighed, slumping in his chair, tapping the fork against his plate, letting the belling noise ring through the room.

It wasn't long before Axel turned up, pressing the doorbell. Pulling on his shoes, tucking some money into his wallet and thrusting it into a deep pocket, Roxas hobbled over and opened the door. "Hey," he panted, struggling to do his laces while standing as straight as possible. Axel was amused.

"Good to see you're ready, Roxie."

"Hah! I could say the same for you! Who knew you'd actually be punctual?" He joined the redhead on the stoop, drawing the door shut and locking it, sliding the key into his back pocket.

"I'll have you know I'm _very _punctual, most of the time."

"Oh, really? I'll have to keep an eye on that, find out for myself."

They got walking towards town, side by side, hands in pockets. "So, how's the rest of your family dealing with the move?" Roxas hedged, glancing over at the redhead.

Axel smirked, looking down from his greater height. "They're doing fine, Roxas."

"Do you… have any siblings or anything?"

Axel sighed, raised his eyes upward. "I have a sister, younger than me by a couple years."

"Really?" Roxas perked up at the unexpected information. "Cute. What's her name?"

"Kairi."

"Kai – " Roxas swayed to a stop, frowning. His eyes squinted as he fought to – to remember? Did he remember…? "That name… sounds really familiar…"

Axel had stopped also, was watching him, almost warily. "Really? I guess. It's not the rarest of names around."

"It's not? It's not exactly what I'd call common."

Axel shrugged. "Who did you know by the name of Kairi? Old girlfriend or something?"

Roxas scowled suddenly, got walking again. "No. I haven't had any girlfriends before."

Axel grinned a little. "This would usually be the point where I teased you by asking about boyfriends, but I'm pretty sure you made that clear the other night."

Roxas lifted one shoulder uncomfortably. "It's not that – well, I'm just not …"

"Roxas, relax. It was a joke. By not teasing, I'm still teasing." He pulled a face, sticking out his tongue a little. "I just can't help myself."

"Asshole," Roxas muttered half-heartedly.

They got to the Usual Spot a few minutes after ten, to find the other three already assembled. Hayner's bright greeting withered upon seeing the redhead. "Oh, good," he said dryly. "You brought him."

Roxas glared, while Axel just laughed. "Aw, Blondie, I didn't know you'd _miss _me! I feel all special and goose-pimply inside."

"Hey, you guys," Pence welcomed warmly, throwing a cheery wave. Olette, sitting beside Hayner, was jigging her knees up and down, a satchel in her lap, looking excited.

"So, what's the big plan for the assignment?" she asked.

"Yeah," drawled Hayner. "Enlighten us, why don't you." He added aside to the others, "This ought to be good."

Axel was peering around interestedly at the cubby-like room, neck craned to look through the gaps in the tracks above them. "This place is so fucking cool…" Roxas shoved an elbow into his side, not without affection. "Ow, shit, Roxie… Oh, right." He straightened, cleared his throat. "You guys, er, ever heard of the seven wonders of Twilight Town? Cuz that's what we're doing. Most of it's over around the Sunset Station side, but there's a couple things over here…" He swung his gaze to Pence. "You've heard of it, haven't you Pence?"

Pence blinked, frowned, scratched at the forehead under the headband that kept his spiky brown bangs away from his eyes. "Actually… now that you mention it, I think I have heard of them. I – I thought it was just a dream, though…"

Hayner stuck his elbows on his knees, hands dangling between them, fixing his friend with a dubious look. "No kidding. You actually know what bean-pole's going on about? Because I have _never _heard of any wonders in Twilight Town, singular or plural."

"I guess you're just not as sharp as old Pence-y boy over there," Axel suggested brightly. "But then, you don't exactly have that whole 'I am the most colourful crayon in the box' look to you."

Hayner let out a threatening growl, while Roxas got frustrated. "Can you two please hold off for a while?" He poked Axel's flat stomach. "You, stop being a wiseass, and you," he whirled on Hayner with a glare, "stop being a jerk. Axel's here, get used to it. I'd have thought you'd be happier, there's less writing to do with an extra person, and it might be a different sort of assignment, but at least it'll be fun, right?"

"So, what, you're subscribing to bean-pole's 'Hayner's a fucking moron' attitude, now?" the other blond flared. Olette brought her feet stamping down, fingers digging into the satchel, a frown in place.

"Hayner, that's enough. Don't be so quick-tempered. Roxas wouldn't say that about you and you know it. He's your best friend!"

"Yeah? Lately, I've had to wonder!"

"Damn it, I'm sorry, okay?" Axel cut in sharply, holding a hand out in front of Roxas, as if such a gesture could stop the words from ever reaching him. "Jeeze, if I thought my being here was going to cause so much trouble between you, I'd…" He stopped, eyes slipping shut, mouth a thin line as he inhaled. "But I am here."

An uncomfortable silence filled the room. Roxas hesitantly touched the redhead's arm.

"…Axel…?"

Olette was busy glaring meaningfully at her boyfriend. He glanced over to the worried Roxas, pouted, sighed, then said, "Okay, _look." _The other two looked up, Axel's expression carefully schooled, Roxas' bordering on hurt. "So, maybe I'm being a little hard on the world today." The blond's brown eyes were raised to the sky, exasperated. "I'm sorry for being a dick, I do still think Roxas is my best friend, I do think Axel is human, now can we _please _just get on with this? I mean, didn't we have an assignment to do? Some – I don't know." His hands flailed. "Some fucking wondrous things to check out? Pence?" He turned to his old friend for guidance.

The brunet turned thoughtful. "I think… yeah, I'm pretty sure I've heard of them. The other day – one of them was the steps at the station, right? Over on Sunset side?"

Axel lifted his head a little, nodded. Sounding subdued, he agreed, "Yeah, that's one of them."

"Well, I think it sounds like fun," Olette encouraged. She bounced up to her feet. "And we might as well get started! Let's see about these steps first, okay? That way, I can write up the first plans on the train!"

The three friends shifted to the door, Olette turning as she realised that neither Roxas nor Axel had moved. "Aren't you guys coming?" she asked.

Roxas looked over, smiled thinly. "You guys go ahead – buy us tickets, okay? I'll pay you back. We'll be there in a minute."

Hayner looked disgruntled, but nodded. "Don't make us miss the train, or I'll kick both your asses from here to the tram line."

"You and what army?" Pence joked. The cloth curtain shifted, and they were gone. Their voices faded into the distance.

Roxas turned to Axel, concerned, and said, "I'm sorry. I should have talked to him about this already. You shouldn't have to put up with him being a jerk."

Axel gave a half-smile. "Neither of us should." He took a slow breath, angling his head back, the sun lighting up his hair like living fire. He wore a wistful expression. "To be honest, I wish we didn't have to stick around like this. I wish I could take from here, no questions asked… All the way back to Hollow Bastion."

"You – you don't want to stay?" Roxas fought back the stab of panic, gave his own crooked little smile, and said, "I shouldn't be surprised. People like you don't stay long. Every now and then, you come, and you're here for a while, but then in the end… you all leave." He trailed off into a mutter, "Why should it be any different with you?"

Axel watched him intently. "You know, Rox… People do come and go fairly regularly around here… But usually, when they leave – they don't tend to go alone." His head cocked to the side. "Did you ever notice that?"

Roxas lifted his head, held it on the same angle as the other, asked, "How would you know that?"

Axel straightened. "That's my own little secret." He tapped the side of his nose, winked. "Can't tell you." He shuffled back a step, green eyes fixed upon the blond. "Come on, we should get going. Forget about Hayner – it takes more than him throwing a hissy fit to get under my skin."

Roxas followed slowly, met him at the opening. They passed through the sunlight, and continued in shadow towards the train station.

-------

The sun was beating down, when they emerged from the cover of Sunset Station, at the top of the long stone steps. Roxas peeled off his jacket, grabbing the back of Olette's shirt to tug her over, and stuffed it into her satchel.

"So." Hayner was unimpressed. "They're looking very… step-like today. I don't know how I didn't see it before, in all my years here."

"Don't be a jerk, Hayner," Olette scolded. Pence nodded, going down a couple stairs with a bounce.

"Yeah, get into it a little! Don't you think this is kind of mysterious and fun?"

The blond crossed his arms over his chest sardonically. "I'll get back to you on that one."

"So, theory goes," Axel broke in, smirking at Roxas, "that these steps count differently going down than coming up." He shrugged. "Me, I don't care to count when I'm going down or coming, but obviously some people are just multitalented."

Roxas blushed, lifting his eyes skyward, mumbling something inaudible. Olette giggled, while Hayner pulled a disgusted face. "Dude, please – I see the way you look at Roxas. I don't want to start thinking about you doing _anything." _

Roxas wanted to die. "Let's… start counting, okay?" he begged, voice cracking a little, skin flaming. Pence had tears leaking from his eyes from laughing so hard, but Olette managed to push him into position as they all squeezed together on the top step.

"So, we all ready? Count out loud, guys, otherwise we won't know if we've missed one." Olette looped one arm through Roxas', the other through Hayner's. "Ready? Go!"

"One, two, three…" They got to the bottom, finishing off at thirty-two.

"Thirty-two on the way down…" They twisted around, gazing back up.

"I feel like a douche," Hayner commented. Axel bit his tongue, but couldn't keep the grin away. Roxas gave him a pointed glare, struggling not to smile at the taller teen's smothered amusement. The silence spoke for itself, causing Hayner to scowl in their direction, Axel shrugging desperately back at him, as if to say, 'whaaaat?'

"So, back up we go!"

They positioned themselves side by side, and trooped back the way they'd come, sweating lightly. They were almost at the top – Roxas could see the final four stairs, and added them mentally to the twenty-eight they'd already ascended. So, there was _one _wasted wonder.

And that's when Roxas tripped. Blurting out a yell, he fell forward without warning, cutting his chin on one of the stone corners. Everyone let out cries of dismay. Axel was on him in a second, strong hands pulling him gently to his feet. "Oh, God, Roxas, I'm so sorry – I should've thought to catch you." The blond was carefully sat down on a low wall, out of the way of passers-by going to and from the station. The blood flowed fast and thin, like water, Roxas making a moue of disgust as he tried to staunch it. The others gathered around worriedly. Axel's hands were warm around his shoulders, as the redhead tilted him back to inspect the damage.

"I'm okay," Roxas winced. He tongued the inside of his lip, which had been bitten on impact, his mouth overwhelmed with the bitter taste of copper. "Really."

"I'm sorry," the redhead apologised a second time, eyebrows knitted together.

Roxas faltered, looked up at them all with a bewildered expression. "There was an extra step." He received blank looks. "I – that's what I tripped on. There was an extra step."

"Roxas?" Olette was frowning in concern, kneeling down in front of him, clutching his knees for balance as she peered up into his face. She reached up to wipe a smear of blood from his cheek. "I have my first-aid kit. I'll take care of that."

"But – " He looked at each of them in turn, expectantly. "There was an extra step! I _tripped _on it because I wasn't looking for it! There's – there's thirty-three steps going up!" He turned to Axel. "You were right about this one!"

"Uh, Roxas? I counted the same both ways," Pence pointed out. "I kind of kept going for the sake of the experiment, and yeah, there's only thirty-two steps."

"No!" Roxas pounded his knee, narrowly missing Olette's fingers, making everyone but Axel jump at the determination in his voice. He glared around at them. "There was, I _felt _it. You guys, there's an _extra step."_

Hayner regarded him sceptically. "Roxas, did you hit your head?"

"Hey, why shouldn't there be an extra step?" Axel interjected, before the blond could snap back a response. "It's the rumour, right? Maybe only some people see it, or feel it or whatever. Special people." He smiled at Roxas.

Pence shook his head. "I'm pretty sure it was Rai I heard talking about these steps – you'd only call that guy special if you wanted to insult him."

Hayner groaned, upper body listing to the side. "Are you telling me," he groused, "that we did this hokey little experiment because wonder-brawn didn't pay enough attention in first grade to learn how to count past his fingers?"

"Well, maybe that guy is stupid, but Roxas isn't," Axel argued stubbornly. "If he says there's an extra step, I believe him." He looked down at the blond, frowning. "I really do, you know."

Roxas smiled up through his blood. "Thanks."

"Ew, Roxas, stop that – your teeth are all red." Olette settled beside him on the wall, first-aid kit open, picking out cotton balls and rubbing alcohol. "Now, this is going to sting, so don't be a baby about it. It's better than getting an infection."

"Yes, mother," Roxas sighed. He sat as still as possible, flinching only once or twice as the avid brunette swiped away the blood and dirt.

"Ouch," she winced, sympathetically, once it was clean. "That's quite a split. I hope it doesn't need stitches."

"_Stitches?"_

Axel crouched down, carefully taking hold of his jaw between a thumb and forefinger, twisting his head around to see better. "Nah, it's fine. It might leave a scar, though."

"Hey, scars are cool," Hayner reassured. "You'll look all tough. The girls'll go _nuts, _Rox."

Axel glared. "Maybe he doesn't _want _the girls to go nuts."

"Ugh! Fine!" Hayner threw up his arms, stomping away. "I won't try to ruin your gay aspirations!"

Roxas cringed, lowering his eyes. Olette, noticing, turned on Hayner with a glower and a growl. He jumped a little, startled, then frowned and went quiet. Olette smiled sweetly at Roxas. "Well, that's all taken care of. Should we keep going, or do you want to go home now?"

"No – we can keep going. It's okay, it just hurts." Like, a lot. Roxas shook his head slowly, stood up. "Thanks, Olette." He turned to Axel, fighting back his discomfort at having those bright green eyes boring into him, and asked, "What next?"

Axel grinned suddenly. "The ball-wall."

_Mind out of the gutter, Roxie. _Roxas rolled his eyes. "Right, like I could forget."

"Oh, I just _know _I'm gonna love this one," Hayner sighed.

"We've got to split up for this one," Axel said. "There's a bunch of alleyways this side of town, and one of them holds the mythical ball-wall. Watch for projectiles coming from bricks, people."

"When did my Saturday become about finding ball-walls? Olette? Sweetheart, can you tell me that?"

"It's okay, Hayner." She giggled, linking an arm through his. "Maybe we'll be lucky and not find it."

"I'm going to check out the ones on the other side of the station," Pence mused. "It gets pretty dark over that way."

"Everyone, make sure to take notes," Olette reminded them. They quickly descended the stairs again, Roxas counting to thirty-two in his head, and broke apart. Roxas, gazing at the steps, didn't notice everyone was gone until it was just him and Axel.

"Well, Roxie? Are you ready?"

The blond blinked, twisted, glanced around in surprise. "Oh! Sure, okay, let's go."

The redhead stuck an elbow on the shorter boy's shoulder, leaning on him as they walked, glancing around at the sunny town. "This is cool. I haven't been here yet."

"Yeah." Roxas shrugged disinterestedly, making the other teen bob. "It's okay."

Axel cast a look down at him, curiously. "You sound unconvinced, Roxie. Still thinking about me leaving?"

Roxas scowled. "Well, I hadn't been, but I am now."

Axel laughed, reached down to pinch his cheek. "Aww, is Roxie gonna miss me when I'm gone?"

Blue eyes cut up sharply, eyebrows drawn down. "The way you say it makes it sound like it's going to be soon…"

Axel glanced away. "Well, not too soon. I just don't plan on staying forever."

Roxas was silent for several steps, Axel watching him closely. "You know…? Me either," the blond murmured. Axel smiled slowly.

"I'm glad to hear you say that, Rox. Who knows, maybe we could be road-buddies when we leave…?"

Roxas nodded, a small smile in place. "I think I'd like that."

They meandered through the streets, Roxas occasionally peering down alleyways, but Axel had apparently lost interest in the pursuit.

"What about this one?" Roxas wondered, taking a few exploratory steps down a short lane. Axel glanced up, eyes narrowing.

"Sure, Roxie, give it a shot. I'll just wait here."

Roxas ventured further in, shoes scraping through the dust. "Nothing weird down here," he called back resignedly.

"No?"

The blond reached out, smoothing a hand across the bricked dead-end. He paused, hearing a noise from beyond it. "Well, that's weird," he mumbled, frowning. It was… a humming, buzzing sort of sound. He took a step back, eyes flickering across the wall, then cautiously pressed his ear against the cold stone. No, wait – it was… warm?

Hitching in a gasp, Roxas tugged back, only to have a pearl-coloured sphere the size of a beach ball come lobbing out towards him. He let out a yell, dropping to the ground, felt the breeze as it flew over his head. _"Axel!" _

"Jesus, Roxie!" The redhead flew to him, grabbed him up, bewildered. "Did you hurt yourself again? God damn it, you're not meant to get hurt!"

"It – there – " Roxas pointed wildly. "A freaking ball just flew out of it at my head! It's a _ball-wall!" _He turned to the redhead with wide eyes. "I think you might be onto something with these wonders."

Axel tugged him to his feet, giving a crooked smile, and shook his head. "Look at you, you're all dusty…" He brushed off the blond's clothing half-heartedly. "Roxas, if you can't take better care of yourself, we'll have to call this off. They're not meant to be the seven _deadly _wonders of Twilight Town."

"No, I – I'm okay," he replied breathlessly. "But – " He met Axel's eyes with wonder. "Did you see it? It would've shot straight past you… It was this big, white _orb." _

He started to move back towards the wall, but was halted by Axel's grip on his shirt. "Leave it for now, Roxie. The ball-wall's not going anywhere, and we need to find the others."

"Yeah… We need to _show _them…"

"Or… maybe we can just write up your results and show them another time? We're running out of daylight."

This was true – the search had taken a good three hours. Twilight Town hadn't earned its name by being eternally sunny. Roxas frowned. "We still need to do the fountain and the jumping bag."

"Sure, but we've got all week to check those things out."

"But – I want to see _now," _Roxas insisted, turning anxiously to the redhead. "I can't give up yet! These wonders are _real, _Axel. You believe me, don't you?"

Axel smiled down at the beseeching blue eyes. "Of course I do, Roxie. I told you that back at the stairs, remember?"

"No one else believed me," he grumbled. Axel's eyes narrowed slightly.

"You know why, though, right? It's because they're not open to that side of things. They're curious, sure, but to them, this is just some fun – just a way to disprove a rumour or two. You and I know differently, though – don't we, Roxas?"

Roxas was uncertain. "We do?"

"Sure we do. You and I – we believe in the unfamiliar. We believe that what you see isn't always what you need – or what you get."

The blond frowned, confused. "I'm not sure I follow."

Axel ruffled his hair. "It's okay, Roxie, you will one day. And on that day…" He swept in front of the teen, hands cupping the sides of his face, careful of the cut on his chin. His narrow, fair face bent down, eyes fixing determinedly on Roxas. "…you will know everything that I do about the world."

Roxas' lips quirked. "I dread to think."

Axel frowned, shook his head. "Don't dread it. Don't even joke about dreading it. It might not necessarily be better out there than it is here, but it'll be more raw, more real. Would you prefer to live a fantasy, Roxas?"

Roxas drew back, out of the other boy's grasp, not sure what to think. "I'm not living a fantasy, Axel. It's you that's making me think of the fantasy."

Axel thought this through, nodded slowly. "I can see what you're saying… But you've got it backwards, Roxas. Once you're out – that's when reality kicks in. This place…" He turned, gazed out at the street, the sound of the tram rattling by floating along to where they stood together. "It's nice… but it's like cotton candy."

"Cotton candy?" Roxas was amused by the comparison. "We're all sticky and rot your teeth, huh?"

"It's insubstantial," Axel responded, refusing to be drawn from his seriousness. "It falls apart the instant you start looking deeper. It doesn't satisfy your needs… your cravings…" He closed in on the teen, whose eyes grew round as the redhead increased their proximity, breath fanning against him. One finger came up, to stroke a line down Roxas' face, leaving a burning trail in its wake. "This place isn't where you belong, Roxas. You and I both know it. There's something more… and it's calling you."

Roxas' mouth trembled, pressed thin. "I want to see the fountain before we leave," he said, doggedly. Axel gave a tired smile, drew back, nodded once.

"Of course you do. Okay. I'll go find the others, get them over to the station. We'll meet you there. Make sure to be careful – I wouldn't want any more of these wonders attacking you." He smirked.

Roxas, head down, nodded quickly. "I'll see you there."

He hurried away, only letting the blush break out once he was sure he was out of sight. He flopped against the nearest wall, hands pressed to his burning cheeks, and felt the butterflies in his stomach waltz through to the pancreas. What was Axel _thinking? _What was _Roxas _thinking?

Emotions and preset ideals warred within his mind, struggling to find some steady ground upon which the boy in the centre could sit and think.

He was… starting to like Axel. Like, as in, more than he thought he would. Or could. Or – argh. All he'd done, from the very first moment he'd thundered into Roxas' life, was stir things up, in his head, in his heart, in his body…

Roxas liked the thought of being road-buddies with Axel. He liked the thought that there was something more real than real life. He liked the fact that Axel liked to touch him, even if it wasn't in an effort to – to get into his pants or whatever.

He loved that Axel saw something different in him, that little piece that for the last couple years had been a cause for self-imposed isolation and boredom, and wanted to whisk him away from all that was crushing him here.

The unfamiliar was growing more and more appealing with every day… And Roxas knew, in some corner of his brain, that things shouldn't be feeling this right so fast – but it was like he couldn't quite wait for the day to come when Axel did leave… because, all going well, Roxas would join him. They could go together.

Roxas pushed away from the wall, feeling light-headed. His friends, his family – they'd always be in his heart, sure… but that heart wouldn't last for many more years if it was forced into a shape it didn't fit. Roxas didn't want to be squeezed to death – he wanted to breathe. Axel was showing him that… breathing – it was okay.

Filled with anticipation at what the next wonder would bring, he jogged through town until he reached the small council garden housing the large water feature. He had to admit, he'd never heard of anyone complaining about any unusualness to do with it, but then, he hadn't heard any of the other stuff, either. How was it that in less than a week, Axel knew more about his home town than he did? Was it because he came in with open eyes?

Roxas' feet left the path, entered grass, his shoes making a rustling noise across the lawn.

There it was. The now-fabled fountain, a wonder of Twilight Town. Roxas approached it cautiously, not certain anymore what to expect. Water showered down in a continuous cycle, the gentle rushing patter filling the garden. The dark stone behind the flow glistened, reflected. As Roxas got closer, he could see the rippling image of himself mirroring his actions. He stopped, stared, waited. The sun was setting, beyond the green hills, casting cooling golden light across the town. As it sank, the glow caught the water, flashing, blinding Roxas momentarily.

When he looked again, his reflection was gone.

Roxas blinked, frowned. He stepped closer, peering into the shimmering distortion. A hand tapped his shoulder. Slowly, he turned, and there, standing before him…

A shadow.

A shadow of – himself.

Eyes widening, Roxas asked, "How – ?"

The shadow opened its mouth. "I don't want this anymore." Its voice was like water rippling across stones. "I want to be free."

Roxas felt a stab of fear, stepped away from the apparition. "This is crazy. This isn't a wonder – this is a _hallucination. _What the hell? What the _hell?"_

The – the _creature… _looked mournful. "Roxas…"

"No!" Roxas' heart pounded, he tugged at his shirt with fright and distress. "This is _insane." _

The shadow grew angry. _"Don't deny this anymore!" _It was like listening to someone drown. _"It's all up to you!" _It took a menacing step forward. "You can't _keep _us here."

Roxas fell into the fountain with a gasp, ice water spilling over his head and shoulders, streaming down his back. He jolted forward, hands scrubbing desperately at his eyes, searching for the impossible, angry spectre.

It was gone.

He whirled to the fountain, droplets of water flinging from his hair, and there it stood, back within its trap – a two-dimensional, sad-looking creature, gazing out from its reflective prison. It was… alone in there. And cold. It couldn't move until… Roxas moved. And even then… it moved only as Roxas dictated.

Roxas felt his pulse begin to slow. He wasn't so scared, anymore. He just felt – lost. Was it the emotion of his shadow?

Wasn't his shadow as much a part of him as his flesh?

"You don't… want this anymore?" Roxas was confused. "But… how can you ever escape? You're just… a shadow."

The darkness leaked away, as the last of the sun dipped below the horizon. Roxas' reflection was simply himself again. He shivered as the wind picked up, slipping through his wet clothing, making it cling to his skin.

"I don't understand." His voice was small.

_It's all up to you… you can't _keep _us here…_

Axel… Roxas needed Axel. He needed someone who'd believe him… someone who'd make him feel warm again.

Roxas needed someone who could convince not only his mind, but his shadow itself, that Twilight Town wasn't forever.


	5. Chapter 5

**A/N: **A little less conversation, a little more action, please? My apologies – this one's a chattybitch of a chapter. It's also very possibly crap (and _now _I'm officially back into full-swing mode), because I'm just about falling asleep on the keyboard, and it's not even three in the afternoon. Thank God for Word doing grammar check, all the squiggly green lines alerted me to the fact that half a dozen times I missed an 'is' or an 'and'. I also misspelled some words hideously. Seriously, this is me in shut-down mode. So if you see something glaring, let me know, okay? I stayed up way too late last night. I'll sleep lots tonight, and tomorrow will (hopefully) be slightly less mentally deficient.

_Note: _Also - stupid of me - I completely miscounted the wonders. There's an extra one! I've been operating on six this whole time - everyone, keep in mind, the unmanned train is the sixth wonder. I couldn't be bothered playing the game to find them all out, instead just checked a walkthrough online, and it failed to mention that one, which is why _I _did. I've changed a couple words in chapter three to make it fit. Or possibly chapter four. I can't freaking remember.

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CHAPTER FIVE

Everyone was waiting as Roxas came hurrying at last to the station, lounging on the benches as the trains arrived and left. The lights were beginning to flicker on, one by one, making the outer dimness seem all the more thick.

They all stared as he puffed up the last of the stairs, wild-eyed. His gaze fell upon Axel. "Axel!" The redhead was already in motion, sweeping towards him with concern. He grabbed Roxas by the arms, bending down to see better, disbelieving. "Roxas, what happened to you?"

Roxas shook his head violently, gasping, "You'll never believe it! But you _have _to! You're the _only one _who – " He broke off, seeing his friends approach, identical looks of horror on their faces.

"Roxas, why are you _wet?" _

Pence, slightly awed, said, "You look like you've seen a ghost, Roxas."

Hayner glowered. "What happened, and who do I have to hunt down for payback?"

Roxas, distressed by their upset, quickly replied, "No, no, no one did this to me…"

"Seifer?" Hayner demanded, determined to find a culprit. "Did Seifer do this? Damn it, Roxas, you better tell me if it was, I am _not _letting that guy – "

"Hayner, please!" They all stared at him, shaking and dripping, face pale under its light tan. Axel's arms tightened around him. "No one did this to me – I fell into the fountain."

"Oh!" Pence brightened instantly. "One of the wonders! Axel told us – did anything happen?"

Roxas stared, eyes going wide for a moment. Then he shook his head. "Nothing happened. I told you. I fell in."

Hayner squinted, canted a hip to one once. "That's what's got you so freaked out? That's why you're racing up here screeching for bean-pole?"

"What can I say, Blondie?" Axel smirked over at him, his posture becoming loose around Roxas, draping himself over the boy. "I'm an easy person to miss."

"Dude, if I had a car of my own, I wouldn't miss."

"Good thing you're still living with mommy and daddy, then, Blondie, I can walk the streets without fear," Axel sneered. Hayner rolled his eyes, kept his temper in check, and refocused on his best friend.

"Seriously, Roxas, that's not your 'I just fell in a fountain' face, it's your 'I just got the shit beaten out of me' one, and I haven't seen it for a while. So tell me:" He leaned forward, glaring. "Did – Seifer – hurt you?"

"Do I look hurt?" Roxas demanded, strangled and frustrated. "Can you please stop being so fucking aggressive? This isn't the schoolyard anymore, Hayner. Grow up a little!"

Hayner flinched away, looking as stunned as if Roxas had reared back and slapped him. He blinked several times, an almost confused expression falling across his features. Olette and Pence had long-since fallen silent, sombre.

"I just – I was worried for you, is all." Hayner's voice was quiet, that stricken quality yet to fade into what would no doubt be injured anger. A disembodied voice announced the arrival of the train to Twilight Town central. Roxas dropped his head.

"Hayner, I – "

"Forget it." The other blond was sullen. "Just – I'm getting on the train now. Why don't you stay and find a bench, and pour out the truth to _Axel_. I'm sure he'll do a better job consoling you than I ever could. After all, I don't try to stick my tongue down your throat. I guess that makes all the difference."

All remorse swept away. _"Damn it, Hayner!" _

There was really nothing more to say than that.

Hayner left, the other two following closely, Pence casting glances back, Olette, apparently, just as displeased with Roxas as her boyfriend. As they disappeared into the train, Roxas' head fell back against Axel.

"Damn," he said softly. The train doors slid shut, and it pulled away a minute later, carrying Roxas' childhood friends with it.

Axel held him for a long moment, then gently released and led him over to the benches. They sat, Roxas looking suddenly exhausted.

"I told you," he said at last. "I'm a bad friend."

"How about," said Axel levelly, an arm still around his shoulders, "you tell me what happened at the fountain."

The life bled out of Roxas. He slumped against the redhead. "You'll believe me, won't you?" he asked, voice small. Axel stroked the blond spikes soothingly.

"Of course, Roxie. I know it's real."

His blue eyes slid shut. "My reflection came to life… It talked to me."

Axel lowered his face, asked into the other's ear, "What did it say?"

Golden eyelashes flickered. "It wants to leave. It doesn't like it here."

"Hmm. You know… I can help you with that." Roxas opened his eyes, bright, tired blue, looked at the redhead, saying nothing. Axel leaned forward, and kissed the end of his nose, sending him pink. "Silly Hayner," he murmured. "I haven't had the chance to stick my tongue down your throat yet."

Roxas shut his eyes, drew into himself slightly, nowhere to escape to with the redhead's arm around him like it was. Nothing happened for a while. When he cracked open one eye, he found Axel staring at him. "Axel?"

"Yes?"

"Why are you… looking at me?"

"Because I have a working-man fetish." He grinned wolfishly. "Remember? Or maybe…" He nuzzled the blond's hair a little. "…just a Roxie fetish…"

Roxas' eyes went wide. For a moment, this blanked out his immediate concerns.

But only for a moment.

He dipped his head. "Axel?"

"Roxie?"

"Am – Am I going crazy? Normal people… normal people don't see their reflections come alive." He turned to watch the next train draw into the station, brakes squealing, engine sighing, bringing a fresh wind hissing through the station. "It's not like I haven't looked into that fountain before. When I was little, we used to throw pennies into it and make wishes. Okay, so it's not a wishing well, and half the time the pennies bounced back onto the grass, but… The point I'm trying to make, is that it's just a fountain. It's not magic. None of my wishes ever came true. So why now?" His head swivelled back to the redhead. "Is it you?"

Axel looked startled. "What? Me? How could I make your reflection come to life, Roxie? I wasn't even there!"

Roxas frowned. "I don't know, Axel. But all of today has been weird. You're the only one that believes in what I've been seeing – do you just believe in weird things, or do you know more about this than me?"

"I – Know more than you? No, Roxie, not at all. I just – I like weird stuff. I believe in weird stuff."

"So, really, you don't _believe _me believe me… You just really want it to be true. Right?"

"No. No! Roxas – " Axel turned the blond to face him full-on, a scowl in place as he said, "I believe you because I know you're not delusional, and you're not a liar. The fact that I'm open to the unknown doesn't mean I'm gullible, alright? I can tell with you. I can tell you're serious about those things. _That _is why I believe you."

Roxas' mouth turned down at the corners. He met the green eyes reluctantly, nodded slowly. "Okay, I guess. But, I mean – how can you be so certain, when I'm pretty sure I must be going nuts?"

"Roxas, it's easy to blame it on insanity _now – _because there's no shadow-person around anymore, telling you what it wants. At the time, though, it felt _real, _didn't it?"

Roxas' eyes narrowed sharply. "I didn't call it a shadow person. I called it my reflection. How do you know it was my shadow?"

Axel's face became shuttered. "You called it your shadow."

"No, I didn't."

"You did, Roxas, I heard you."

"I didn't call it my _shadow, _Axel."

"Are you calling me a liar?" Axel's tone was sharp, challenging. Roxas blanched, shifting back on the bench, but Axel gripped him, held him in place. "Roxas, I won't do anything that'll cause you harm, you know that, right?"

Roxas blinked rapidly. "Cause me harm? Axel, what – ?"

"So why can't you trust me?"

A silence fell between them. "I feel…" Roxas said softly, after a while, eyes studying Axel's features, "like I've known you before."

It was Axel's turn to jerk back, green eyes wider than Roxas had ever seen them. "What the hell makes you say that, Roxie?"

The blond shook his head. "I don't know. All of a sudden… you feel familiar." Axel froze, barely even breathing, staring at him. Roxas began to grow concerned. "Axel? What's wrong? What is it?"

Suddenly, the redhead's arms were back around him, gathering him close, holding him tight. "Nothing's wrong," he breathed, sounding astounded. "Nothing at all, Roxas. No – this is… it's a good thing. This is a good thing."

"Why?" he asked, muffled by Axel's shoulder.

"Just _because, _okay? Jesus, for once in your goddamn life, stop asking questions. Just let me fucking hug you for a while!"

"…Okay."

A few minutes passed. The station announcement came on, informing them that the next train into Central Station would be arriving in one minute. Darkness had fallen by now, crickets chirping their song in the background. A cold wind blew, Axel's presence warm, his breath heating a patch of Roxas' head. Roxas could hear the train coming in the distance.

"This is us," he said quietly. Axel hesitated, nodded, pulled reluctantly away, for once not meeting the other teen's gaze.

"Let's get you home, then."

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The ride back to Central Station was quiet. Axel and Roxas sat side-by-side, not speaking, watching the dark world go by. The train swayed back and forth with its clickety-clack metronome, lulling Roxas almost to sleep. When they arrived at Central, Axel had to shake him back to alertness.

"Roxie…" His voice was soft. "Roxie, we're here. We need to get off the train…"

"Why?" Roxas whispered, enamoured with sleep, content to loll in this fuzzy, between-worlds state. "We could always just… go to the beach…"

Axel snuffed a laugh. "Don't tempt me, shrimp." His watch went off. "Ahh – shut the _fuck _up!"

Roxas was abruptly hauled from his seat, being carried along. He snapped to consciousness. "Ah! Axel! Hey – put – put me down!"

"In a minute, Roxie, gotta get you onto solid ground, first."

They emerged out into the cold air, and Roxas was deposited back on his feet, flustered. "I could've walked!"

"And I could've skipped, but it turns out I had to carry you, and skipping with an extra person's weight is _hard." _The redhead smirked, and smoothed Roxas' wild hair. "Look, Roxie, I just wanna walk you home and get going, okay?"

"Why is your watch always going off?" Roxas asked curiously. Axel shrugged, started walking, the blond automatically following. Their steps echoed in the mostly empty station, Twilight Town tucked away for the night despite the hour only being around six.

"I've got a lot of deadlines," was the answer, shoulders hunching as he dug his fists into his pockets.

They pushed through the glass doors, out into the darkness lit only by the occasional, weak streetlight. Roxas laughed a little at the redhead's statement. "I never picked you as a big responsibility-type guy."

Axel lifted his head and sighed, focusing on the road. "Yeah. Not many people do. But then there's just things you've got to do sometimes, you know?"

"Oh… Is everything…" Roxas looked over worriedly. "…okay?"

Axel gave a crooked smile, huffed a little and shook his head. "When did you get so damn nice, Roxie?"

Roxas inhaled, copying Axel's body language by putting his hands in his pockets, lifting his chin as he looked straight ahead. "I'm not, really. I'm not very nice at all. Ever since you came along, all I've wanted is to leave everything behind. It's like, all the years of my life here don't matter enough. I feel like I'm using you… I feel like it _looks _like I'm using you…" He glanced over, frowning. "But I'm not. And – I know you don't like talking about your home, for whatever reason… you always dodge my questions… but if you ever do want to talk about it, I'm more than happy to – "

"That's what makes you nice," Axel interrupted quietly. "Being nice doesn't mean you're perfect – but you care, so that's enough for me." He flashed the boy a smile. "I'm fine, Roxas, really. Don't worry about me."

Ten minutes later, they halted outside Roxas' house, the pair of them gazing up at it. "You know," Roxas said idly, "if you threw rocks right now, I wouldn't come to the window."

There was a beat of silence. "…Roxie, that's the most fucking random thing I've ever heard you say. You're standing next to me. It's hard to be in two places at once." He added in a mutter, "Believe me, I know."

"You do, huh?" Roxas studied him for a moment. "Thanks for walking me home. Normally when your watch goes off, you just start running."

"Yeah, well – sometimes, deadlines are made to be broken. Or at least pretzeled out of shape."

Roxas grinned. "Right." He didn't move. Axel raised his eyebrows, glanced over towards the door.

"Shouldn't you be getting going? Or were you planning on inviting me in for coffee?"

Roxas was surprised. "You can, you know – if you want. You could come in and meet my parents…"

Axel shook his head, forcing away his distaste at the thought. "No, that's cool. I'd rather not get more tangled up in your life than I already am."

"What? Why not? I don't mind you being tangled in my life."

Axel smiled indulgently at the blond, but shook his head again. "No, really – you don't get it right now, but you will. On the day I tell you everything, how about that?"

Roxas thought for a minute. "Is that day coming sooner, or later?"

"Sooner, Rox. Sooner than you'd probably think." He fixed the blond with a steady look. "Tell me one thing, before I hit the road – how keen are you to leave this place?"

Roxas blinked, looked over towards his house, quiet for a moment. "I don't know. Pretty bad, I guess."

"You think I'll have to wait long for you, Roxie?"

Roxas spluttered a little, startled by the question, blushing. "What?"

He didn't pursue the topic, choosing instead to retreat. "I'd better get going. I'm expected elsewhere." He leaned in, kissed Roxas' nose for the second time that evening. "But I'll see you around, okay?"

Feeling vaguely anxious, the blond asked, "Tomorrow? You're coming back tomorrow, right? Same time?"

Axel's feet carried him backwards, expression twisted in thought. "Oh, yeah, sure – the project." He nodded. "Yeah, I'll be back. Same time, same place."

"Or," Roxas called hopefully, the distance between them growing, "I could always come pick you up. You said you live nearby, right?"

"I'll see you tomorrow, Roxie!" Axel gave him one last grin, an amused acknowledgment of his efforts, and jogged away.

Roxas watched until the redhead was gone from sight, before heading for the house. The smell of turmeric hit him as soon as he shut the door, the warmth of home filling his senses. He stood in the entrance for a long minute, inhaling, arms hanging by his sides, existing in this one moment. He wondered if his mom had got that movie.

"I'm home," he called, levering off his shoes and dropping them to the floor.

"Roxas, how was your day?"

"Dad!" He entered the sitting room, to find his father on the settee, flipping through the cable channels. "Hey, stranger. When did you get home?"

"About twenty minutes ago. I'm sick."

Concerned, Roxas folded himself into the single chair, feet drawn up. "Sick?"

His dad gave a couple of very, very false coughs. "Sick."

Roxas broke into a grin. "Oh. I see. Poor thing."

"It's the earliest he's been home in two weeks," said his mother, emerging from the kitchen with a soda, a wry smirk in place, "and all he had to do was lie his pants off." She tossed the can to the waiting, calloused hands. "Roxas, honey, you want a soda?"

"No, thanks, mom. I like my teeth."

"Says the boy who ate waffles for breakfast…" She trailed back to the kitchen, throwing over her shoulder, "Dinner's in five minutes, buster, you got home just in time. Go wash up."

Roxas sighed at the effort of having to stand so soon after sitting, and hauled himself, tottering, to his feet. Halfway to the stairs, the doorbell rang. A burst of anticipation zinged through his veins – was Axel back? "I'll get it," he called, trotting over to the door. When he pulled it open, the face gazing in wasn't what he expected.

Startled, he said, "Hayner?"

The taller blond gave him a dry, pursed-lip look. "Hi. We need to talk."

Axel sprung unbidden into mind: _Oh, no, Blondie, don't tell me you're breaking _up _with me! I'll kill myself, I swear I will! MARRY ME!_

"Oh, uh, okay." Roxas eyed him uncertainly, hugging the door, his face pressed against the edge, hands fiddling with the doorknob on either side. "So, uh, what's up?"

Hayner rolled his eyes. "Can I come _in?" _

"Oh, well… we're about to start dinner…"

"Great!" Hayner pushed past into the house. "I'm starved!" He raised his voice. _"Mrs. Roxas! I'm staying for dinner!"_

"Hayner, dear, I haven't seen you in ages! You want a soda?"

Roxas blinked, sighed, shut the door.

Dinner was a noisy affair with both parents and Hayner sitting at the table, the dirty-blond providing a running commentary on just about every piece of food he placed in his mouth and saying how fucking delicious it was. Roxas picked at his food, casting dubious glances around the table, trying to seem engaged in the conversation, all the while fighting with the little voice in his head. This wasn't so bad, was it? No. Best friend, mom and dad, a nice meal, a warm home – what more could a guy want? Aside from a steady girlfriend, a well-paying job, a dog, a cat, his own mortgage, a baby, and an eventual grave right alongside where grammy and pop currently resided.

No, this wasn't hard at all.

"Okay, so who's up for dessert?"

"Mr. Roxas, I'm afraid I'm going to have to break up with Olette and elope with your wife."

"I think… I'm going to be sick," Roxas muttered. The rest of the table laughed. He shook his head sharply. "No, _really."_ He pushed back, got to his feet, and ran for the stairs, gasping for air.

"Roxas, honey?"

He bolted up to the bathroom, slammed the door shut, knelt in front of the toilet and cradled his head in his hands. Tears stung at his eyes. It wasn't meant to be like this. He was supposed to be happy with his life.

His panting filled the room, bouncing off the tiles. Blue eyes squeezed shut. _Trapped. _Just like his shadow.

Someone knocked. "Roxas?" Hayner pushed the door cautiously open. "You okay?"

Roxas sniffed, pulled his head back from the bowl, nodded. "Yeah, just… for a second there, I didn't think I was going to hold it down."

"Dude, I swear, I'm not into milf's. Not that your mom is one. Or that I'm… trying to insult her by saying she's not..." He shook his head. "Okay, I am _not _going to elope with your mother."

Roxas smiled weakly. "That wasn't why I felt sick."

Hayner snorted. "I'm aware of that, Roxas. I was trying to make a joke."

"Operative word being: _trying." _

Hayner studied him. "You still think you might hurl?"

Roxas closed his eyes. "Nah. I'm okay now."

"Come on, then. Come lie down for a while." Hayner stepped in and gently hooked his arms under Roxas'. Roxas staggered a little as he stood, Hayner tightening his grip and steering the shorter blond carefully into his bedroom down the hall. He led him to the bed, got him sitting, and went and closed the door. Grabbing the desk chair, he flipped it around to sit backwards, and propped his chin on his arms. "So," he said.

Roxas wearily pushed himself back, lying on his side, head sinking into the pillow. He sighed, feeling calmer. "So," he agreed. They were silent for a while, falling into old habits, a comfortable peace hanging in the air. "I thought you'd be busy being mad at me," Roxas said at last.

Hayner fixed him with a hard look. "Me, too, to be honest. I mean, I _was _just trying to be your friend and be supportive, and you threw it right the fuck back at me covered in piss."

Roxas closed his eyes. "Yeah. I know."

Hayner cocked an eyebrow. "Is that it? No heartfelt apology?"

"I like Axel. A lot. But he's never kissed me on the mouth."

The other blond grunted, massaging the bridge of his nose. "Okay, great, good to know. Never do me the favour of enlightening me when it does happen, okay?"

"What the hell makes you think we're involved like that, anyway?" Roxas scowled.

Hayner said scornfully, "Oh, come on, Roxas, we've been best friends our whole lives. You think I don't know by now the way you look at your crushes? This is just like that Naminé chick all over again, only with a redhead who's a dude, and looks like he wants to molest you behind some bushes."

Roxas sat up, snatching up his pillow and smacking the other boy, gasping, "He does _not! _Don't be so fucking mean!"

Hayner was laughing under the assault. "He so _does, _Roxas. I told you, I _see _the way he watches you!"

"He… he watches me?" Roxas hugged the pillow close, uncertainly.

Hayner smiled wryly. "And oh, hear the _hope _in those words." He sobered up a little as he said, "I didn't know you, you know, liked guys that way."

"Yeah, well, when there's you and Pence around, the last thing I want to think of is making out with guys," Roxas responded with a grin. Hayner shuddered.

"And I thank you for that – desperately, dearly."

Roxas shifted uncomfortably. "Besides, I mean, it's not like I'm bursting out of the proverbial closet. I just… I like Axel. I didn't think I would, but I do."

Hayner, looking equally unsettled, said, "Okay, fine. Look, I'm sorry about what I said at the station. You made me mad, so I kind of hit back. I'm not saying I won't use this against you again, because I probably will, being the absolute bastard that I can be, but I'll try. You know, try to be supportive and stuff."

Roxas grimaced. "What, not scared I'll try to grope you?"

Hayner laughed out loud, rocking back in his chair. "Are you kidding? Olette'd kill you, Rox! I know you value your life better than that!"

A slow grin spread across the shorter blond's face. "So… you're not mad at me?"

"For being totally gay for Axel?" He ignored the reflexive wince that came from stating it so baldly at such a premature stage and shrugged. "I'm not bothered. As long as you don't turn fruity overnight, and come to school wearing a fucking tutu or something, I'm willing to believe you're still the same person – just with serious fucking hang-ups. I mean, it's _bean-pole." _

"Shut up, Hayner."

That silence fell again, and things felt right for the first time in a while.

"Hayner?"

"What?"

"Do you…" Roxas hesitated. "Do you ever think about travelling? Seeing far-off places? Getting away from Twilight Town?"

Hayner was surprised. "Getting away? Why? I love it here, man. I mean, sure, there's stuff out there, but that's what TV is for. Vicarious shit, you know? I'm happy here. I don't need to travel." He looked curiously at the blue-eyed teen. "Do _you?"_

"I – I guess… I mean, I'd rather not just stick around forever."

Hayner frowned. "Dude, this is your home, though. You can't leave. I mean, what about your parents? And us, your friends? We've been together for our whole lives. You don't want to just throw that away, do you?"

Stupid Hayner. Stupid, _stupid _Hayner. "Do you think you'll end up marrying Olette?"

Hayner jumped, spluttered, nearly fell of his chair. "Holy _shit, _Roxas." He planted his hands on his head, brown eyes wide, startled. "Where's all this coming from?"

Roxas shook his head, rolled over. "I'm not feeling great again," he said softly, staring at the wall. "You mind letting me get some rest?"

"…Roxas, what's going on with you?" Hayner sounded… sad. He sounded like… like maybe, he'd lost his best friend, and didn't know why, or how to get him back.

That part of their lives was over.

"Nothing," Roxas murmured, eyes slipping shut. "I'm just tired. I'll sleep it off, okay? I'll see you tomorrow, Hayner."

Hayner stood there for a while longer, watching the blond's shoulder rise and fall with each breath. When nothing further was forthcoming, he quietly left the room, and closed the door.

-------

The next day, Roxas was quiet as he left the house, meeting Axel in the warm sunshine. "You ready for some more wonders, Roxie?" the redhead enthused. Roxas shrugged.

"Sure."

They got walking, Axel frowning down at him. "Everything, uh, okay down there?"

He nodded. "Yeah, Axel. Everything's fine."

They reached the Usual Spot, deafened by the sound of the Sunday train rattling overhead, some dust floating down into Axel's hair.

"Okay," announced Hayner, once everyone was gathered. "So, we figure we'll finish off the other three regular wonders today, and go for the mansion on Tuesday, since both me and Roxas work Mondays after school. Then, it's all just a matter of doing the writing."

"I'm not comfortable only having two days to write it up," Olette said firmly. "I say we split up the wonders once they're all done, and everyone has to write up at least one of them tomorrow after school – even if you _are _working. You can do it at home."

"Oh, right, like I didn't have _better _things to do," Hayner muttered. He sighed. "Okay, fine, we'll do what the slave-driver says and _not _leave everything until the last minute."

"Olette, you ball-breaker," Axel drawled, making the brunette blush.

"Axel, stop that," she scolded. "So, what're we doing today, anyway?"

"We've got the moaning tunnel, the jumping bag, and the spooky train that goes by itself."

"I'm already terrified," Hayner said dryly. "So, okay, how're we going to do this? Do we split up again, or what?"

"The tunnel we can reach from this side of town; it's actually not far from here," Axel informed them. "The jumping bag is on Sunset hill, which, incidentally, is the best place we can hope for to see the mystery train."

"I don't know," Pence said sceptically. "I don't think I've heard of any ghost trains around here. We catch the train pretty often, Axel."

"So? Maybe it chugs around when you're not looking – except that this time, we _will _be looking." Axel pointed at him. "Just make sure to pay attention." He turned to Hayner. "In answer to your question, we don't have to split up, no."

"Well, then, let's get going," Olette chirped, jumping to her feet, once again clutching her satchel.

They headed out of the Usual Spot, together this time, moving as a chattering group towards the tunnels. Roxas hung close to Axel, who smiled at him encouragingly.

"You seem a little flat today, Roxie," he said, as Olette and Hayner got caught up in some argument over the numbering of the wonders. Roxas shrugged.

"I'm okay. I didn't get a whole heap of sleep last night." Hayner, hearing the last part of this, glanced over his shoulder. Scowling at Axel, he twisted back, resuming the discussion with his girlfriend, but with less determination.

Noticing, Axel nudged Roxas, murmuring, "Is everything okay with him? You guys don't seem to hate each other today…"

Roxas forced a smile. "We didn't hate each other to begin with. But yeah, we got things sorted. He came over a few minutes after you left and stayed for dinner. He sort of gets that I'm not the same person I used to be, I think."

"Really?" Axel asked, interest spiking. "What makes you say that?"

Roxas thought for a moment. "I guess, a couple of years ago, I would have just told him everything straight away. And I wouldn't have got mad at him for threatening to beat up the world. I would have almost… expected it, I guess." He shrugged. "He wasn't even mad anymore when he came over. It's like, he's starting to get, somewhere inside, that I'm drifting away."

Cautiously, Axel placed an arm around his shoulders. Roxas stiffened. This wasn't just a buddy-buddy sort of thing – that's why Axel was being careful. Maybe to anyone looking at them, it would seem casual, but… Axel was trying to hold him, in a sideways sort of fashion. Not just hang on him, but… hold him. After a long moment, Roxas relaxed slightly, leaning in just the smallest amount.

They reached the entrance to the tunnels ten minutes later, and started down into the sloping coolness. "So, there's a few tunnels around here." Pence's voice echoed back to them. "Do we just go around systematically searching, or do we separate to cover more ground?"

"Separate, I guess," Hayner said without enthusiasm. "Seems like the fastest way to get it done. But you know, bean-pole, I haven't found myself too awed by any of this. None of your wonders have panned out so far."

"Not for you, maybe," Axel agreed mildly. "You never know, Blondie, you might find yourself surprised."

"Pssh, yeah, by something you've dreamed up? I doubt it. Same groups as yesterday, only this time, Pence is with me and Olette. Otherwise he'll get lost."

"Will not!" Pence protested. Hayner rolled his eyes.

"You are directionally challenged, Pence. These are some long-ass tunnels. You want to risk it?" Pence joined their couple, muttering away to himself. Hayner threw a glance at the other two, his gaze lingering a moment longer on Roxas, before he smiled. "Try to meet back in an hour, okay? I don't want to have to come fish you out."

As they left, Axel allowed his jaw to swing open. "Did – " He glanced wildly at Roxas, a hand pointing after the retreating trio. "Did Blondie just – _smile _at me?"

Roxas smirked. "I think he was smiling at _me_, but you _were _in the cross-fire, so I guess it counts."

"Miracles happen," Axel stated dumbly. Hand on heart, he nodded, pretending to fight back tears. "Yes, sir, they do." The act dropped, he clapped his hands, the crack echoing around their heads. "So, we go find some moaning, right? Of course…"

Roxas held up a hand, rolling his eyes, stopping Axel as he went to lower himself. "Yes, Axel, I know – we could always make some moaning of our own. You'd even be proving the wonder to Hayner while you're at it. No, I don't think so."

"Ah, you know me too well, Roxie."

"You have any idea which tunnel it is?"

"Nnnnope. Sorry."

Roxas huffed. "Okay, so we just wander around for a while, I guess."

"We'll find it, Rox. We found the others, right? Or, you did, at any rate."

Axel's watch went off.

"You're fucking _kidding _me," the redhead exploded, snatching up his wrist to glare at the timepiece. "Stupid piece of shit, _shut up!" _

"Er…" Roxas watched him, disconcerted. "What does this mean? Another deadline?"

"Ah, shit." Axel wiped a hand down his face, eyes to the ceiling, looking irritated. "Yeah, something like that." He dipped his head to meet Roxas' gaze, an angry spark in his eyes. "I'm really sorry, Roxas. Look, how about we get you to wherever the others are, okay? Because I have to leave."

"What, already?" Roxas' eyes bugged. "But – we just got here. It's been, like, thirty minutes since you left your house. This is _homework, _Axel."

"I know, and I'm _sorry," _the redhead insisted. "But I really can't screw this off, I'll get in trouble."

"With who?" Roxas demanded. "This is bullshit," he snapped, as Axel lowered his face. "The second that thing starts beeping, you just race off. Who the hell is giving you these deadlines, anyway?" He stepped closer, intently studying Axel's tight expression. "Is it to do with your family? Is it why you don't talk about them, or whatever? Axel!" He gripped the redhead's arm tightly, forcing him to meet his gaze. "What's going on? Are you alright?"

"Of course I am," Axel replied tiredly. "You really need to get off this whole family subject, Rox, it's not the big deal you're making it out to be."

"So why won't you _tell _me anything about them? Why wouldn't you let me pick you up this morning?" Roxas was frustrated. "I'm trying to not stick my nose where it doesn't belong, but I'm not going to pretend I don't care, and frankly, your behaviour is _worrying _me. Do you have abusive parents? Are they alcoholics? Are you ashamed of them? _What?"_

"None of the above," Axel growled, growing agitated. "Roxas, I've told you already, there's nothing to worry _about. _I understand that you're probably confused by this, but I really can't tell you any more than I have."

"What? You can't say more than _nothing?"_

Axel planted a hand on the blond's shoulder, scowling. "Roxas, I don't have time for this. I have to leave, and you're not making it easy on me. I'll try and get back in time for the other wonders, because I _don't _want to blow this off, believe it or not – I like spending time with you, and this is as good an excuse as any. But right now, I have to go. Okay? Can you just let me go without bitching me out?"

Roxas pushed back, a frown in place. "Fine. Go."

Axel groaned. "Roxie, that didn't sound encouraging…"

"What? I said go. I'm not going to bitch you out, so just _leave."_

Axel stared at him for a long minute, brow knitted. "You're mad at me now," he observed. Roxas sighed.

"I'm not mad, Axel. Just go. Seriously, just get out of here. Go – do your deadline, whatever the fuck it is."

"I don't _want _to," the redhead snapped. "If it was up to me, I'd stay."

"Who _is _it up to, then?" Roxas cried. "Damn it, you don't tell me a _thing _about yourself! You've been here a week already, and you're all over me half the time, you're visiting me in the middle of the night, you keep acting like you want this to _go_ somewhere – hell, you even talk about the two of us _leaving _together – but I still know _nothing _about you!"

"I told you I'd tell you one day," Axel argued.

"Fine!" Roxas snarled. "But don't expect anything from me until that day arrives! You want me to trust you, but I can't trust someone I don't _know._"

Axel's whole body tightened, the skin across his cheeks pulling taut, eyebrows lowering dangerously. "So, what you're telling me is, if I obey the rules, I lose you?"

"Axel…" Roxas trailed off, shook his head. "That's such a dramatic fucking statement. Look, go. Seriously. I'm going to keep looking for the right tunnel, and maybe I'll see you later."

He broke away from the redhead, continuing alone down the tunnel, sneakers slapping along the cold concrete.

"Roxie – wait!"

He turned, as Axel came jogging after him, a wary expression on his face. "Aren't you meant to be leaving?"

Axel hesitated, then undid the strap of his watch, and dropped it in the passage. He stepped on it sharply, crushing the device, Roxas jumping slightly at the splintering noise. "Axel! Your watch…!"

"Forget it," he said curtly. "I've got other watches at home. I don't need it beeping every ten motherfucking seconds to remind me I'm supposed to be elsewhere. I'm staying with you, Roxie."

Roxas faltered, shook his head. "You can't – I feel bad now… You should go keep up with your responsibilities…"

"Right now," Axel bit off impatiently, "my responsibility is to be here. I said I would, so we could do the homework, right? So here I am. Fuck the deadlines, seriously." He saw Roxas' fretting expression, and softened. "Look, Roxas – I'm not mad at you, I'm mad at me, and I'm mad at how much I'm always running off because that fucking thing starts squalling at me. I'm sick of it. I'm not denying I won't get in trouble later, but it's nothing I can't handle. And _no – " _He glared firmly at Roxas as he opened his mouth. "It has nothing to do with any family members. So shut up, you cute little blond, and let's keep going, okay?" When Roxas still didn't move, undecided, Axel turned pleading. "Roxie, I've done it now – I've made a stand. Don't try and talk me out the one thing I did for you."

Roxas blinked. "For me? You did that for me?"

Axel rolled his bright eyes. "Well, duh, Roxie. I didn't want to leave you. So just shut up for a while, _please." _He dulled, becoming serious. "Please, Rox?"

Reluctantly, the blond nodded. "Okay."

Axel offered his arm, which Roxas hesitantly accepted. They went off in search of a wonder.


	6. Chapter 6

**A/N: **Gleeeee. I really like this chapter – I've been checking out my original, Israel, which I haven't touched in about half a year for fear of instant mental block simply by looking at the title, but doing the fanfics has got my confidence back up, and reading bits and pieces of that has bled into my fanfic style. So this chapter felt so comfortable to write, so much easier. That's why it's finished sooner, too! Hope everybody likes this one. ;)

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CHAPTER SIX

"Axel? Axel, where'd you go?"

Roxas spun in a slow circle, eyes wide. The redhead had just…disappeared. Roxas was alone.

"What…?" Eyes narrowing, he started back the way he'd come, only to be brought to a stop by a clatter in the opposite direction. He twisted on his heel, frowning. "Axel?" he murmured. No. Axel had been behind him, before he'd vanished virtually into the air. So then, who…?

"Hayner? You guys?" He took a few cautious steps forward. A shadow flickered in the corner of his eye as he reached the centre of the room, causing him to whip around. "Who's there?"

Still alone.

"Damn it," he muttered, a thread of nervousness encircling his heart. He stood his ground, head swivelling back and forth, some instinct within murmuring unease.

A footstep behind him.

He jerked around, cursing at the empty air. "This isn't funny!" he declared loudly. "Whoever's there – Axel? Is it you? I don't find this amusing!"

"Who's _Axel?" _

With a gasp, Roxas jumped around, shoes scuffing the cement as he took two quick steps back. The sound echoed in the hollow space. Seifer emerged from the shadows, an uneven smirk in place, eyes watchful and narrow. "Chicken-wuss?"

Roxas scowled. "Seifer? What're _you _doing here? Are you the one who's been – "

A sharp clatter from behind, Roxas whirled, growling at the emptiness, turned back to Seifer – _"Seifer?" _

The teen was gone.

"What the hell is going on?" Roxas wondered, bewildered.

"What's up, Roxie?"

"_Jesus fucking damn it!" _He turned, and Seifer was there again, small, inscrutable smile in place. "Since when do you call me _Roxie? _And – when did you get so fast?"

"What're _you _doing down here, Roxie?"

"Don't call me that," he said coldly. "I'm here for a school project. What the hell are _you _doing here?"

Seifer lowered his head, the smirk growing broader, his cheeks bowing out with it, a few strands of blond sliding from the front of the ever-present black beanie to spill over his eyes. He folded his hands behind his back and took a couple of shuffling steps back, the tails of his white trench-coat rustling. "Oh, me, I like to soak up the ambience."

Roxas felt unnerved. Seifer was acting weird. "Ambience? What kind of ambience is there to soak up down here?"

A gasp near his ear, loud enough to echo, bringing Roxas around with a fright, nobody there, turning back to Seifer, who was gone again. Roxas' heart pounded. "What's going on?" he whispered, eyebrows drawn together, eyes darting. He was breathing quickly, not willing to admit to himself that he was scared. He raised his voice. "Seifer?" There came no reply. Deciding to cut his losses and just leave, he headed back the way he'd come.

"Roxas!"

A low cry escaped his throat. He whirled, stumbling a step, to be caught by the tall blond, expression trapped in that hideous, mocking half-curve of the lips. _"No!" _He flung himself back, pulse throbbing in his throat as he hitched in each breath. He shouted, "You weren't there! Just a second ago, _you weren't there!"_

"Shut up, chicken-wuss!" Seifer shoved him back, sent him sprawling, elbows banging hard against the ground. "What do you think you're doing down here?"

"I told you," Roxas cried, scrambling back as the blond advanced, boots thudding dully against the concrete. He propped his feet under him and staggered up. "I'm just here for school!"

Seifer flickered, in and out, disappearing for a moment, reappearing several steps further back. Roxas backed away sharply, tongue numb, and hit a warm, broad chest, fingers wrapping instantly around his biceps, grip hard. A hot breath in his ear, "Don't walk away from me, Roxas, I want to know why you're here."

The first Seifer was gone again, Seifer's hold tightened until pain shot through Roxas, making him whimper and struggle. "Get _off _me."

He was thrust forward, found himself again on the ground, knuckles scraping, one knee tearing, bumping his cut chin. He was moving again instantly, not bothering to find his feet, crawling as fast as he could, eyes glued on the exit. A kick to the side of the head, Seifer was in his way, hadn't even run, hadn't even jumped, had just decided to exist in Roxas' path. Roxas fell to the side with a grunt, choking on the stars and cigarette-burn holes exploding in his vision. "Let me go," he begged.

"_What was that, chicken-wuss?" _Seifer stepped over his inert form, a leg either side of his waist, reached down to seize a handful of hair and drag the dazed boy's head up from the dust. He gave Roxas a hard shake, teeth clacking together, and demanded, "Repeat yourself!"

"_Let me go, Seifer," _Roxas cried, terrified. "Please!" He was pushed down, the older teen's hands firm into his shoulder-blades, mashing him against the cement, cold ground, warm blood.

"Why didn't you _say _so?" came the mocking sneer. The legs were gone, the pressure vanished. Seifer stood on the opposite side of the room, leaning against the side of the doorway. The smile was back in place, the eyes above it glittery and dead. "It's up to you now, Roxas. Just get up and leave. I won't stop you."

Beside him, crouched down onto one knee, a hand threading through his hair, soft at first, then gripping tight, nails into his scalp. "So you're crippled a little. So maybe you're hurting. Does that stop you from being able to leave? Are you trapped here because it hurts too bad to move?"

Behind him, the opposite end of the room, voice like water over stones. "You're not bound here, you know."

His shadow, towering over him, the sound of someone screaming through bubbles, the sound of someone drowning in an abyss. _"Why are you still _here? _Just get out! If you stay, you'll _die!"

A kick to the side of the head, just as he was struggling to lift his upper body from the floor, and everything went dark, the last sound in his ears Seifer's boots across stone, heading away, blond tormentor sighing, "I guess you're happy staying where you are…"

-------

"Roxie! Roxie, open your eyes. Open your eyes…"

Blue eyes cracked open, to see green, glowing with concern, with fear. A mumbled, "Axel…?"

Hands, helping him to sit, brushing the dust and hair from his eyes. Voice, impossibly gentle, asking, "What happened? Did you forget to eat or something?"

Roxas stiffened, clutched the redhead. "Seifer! Seifer was here! He – he…" Impossible. Whatever had happened, it was _impossible. _

"I heard you… you were moaning, Roxas. I guess we solved this wonder, huh?"

Roxas sat up hurriedly, wincing in anticipation of the pain that never came, snapping, "It's not fucking funny! Something really _weird _is going on." Gingerly, he felt the sides of his head, fingers running through the hair in search of injury. There was none. He was unharmed. Utterly bewildered, he could only murmur, "Huh?"

Axel sank cross-legged across from him, frowning. "Roxie, what happened here? You look terrible." He reached out, pausing as Roxas flinched away from his touch, fear sparking in the blue eyes. Axel drew back sharply, stricken.

"What is it? Roxas?" He hesitated, then grabbed hold of the blond's hands, and tugged himself forwards, knees closer to Roxas'.

"Did you see Seifer around here?" the blond asked desperately. Dirt smudged his cheek, a streak of beige stretching along the sweep of the bone.

"I didn't see anyone but you," Axel said slowly. "You took a wrong turn when I wasn't looking. It's taken me twenty minutes to find you – I didn't realise this place was such a maze."

Roxas' fingers alternately tightened and slackened in Axel's grasp, muscles twitching, eyes darting around the room. "Axel – I'm scared," he breathlessly admitted. "Something – really freaky happened, and I don't know if it was real or not."

"Roxas," Axel said sternly, hands going firm around his. "We talked about this yesterday – you saw the wonder, didn't you? And now you don't know if it was all in your head."

"It wasn't a wonder," he cried. He yanked free, got to his feet, brushing away the dirt, anxiously seeking the cut knees, the torn elbows, all his flesh healthy and whole. "I don't _get this," _he exclaimed at last, distressed, straightening with a hand against his brow. Axel had already stood, had watched his frantic self-evaluation in silence. The blond paced in a short line, knuckles to his teeth, face furrowed in thought as his mind raced. "What the hell is going on?" he muttered at last, scraping his hands through his spikes.

"Roxie – relax." Axel spoke softly, cautiously, as if addressing a skittish animal. "Maybe you're right. Maybe these wonders aren't so great, after all." There was a long pause, as Roxas covered his face with his hands, taking deep, slow breaths in an attempt to calm himself, bring himself back to the present moment, out of his head where Seifer continued to hurt him. "Do you want to go find the others and just leave?"

The blood drained from his face, hands dropping. "The others! Oh, my God, Axel, he might be hurting them. We have to find them! We have to – "

Axel crossed the space between them in a heartbeat, frightening the blond with the suddenness of the motion, but he fell gratefully into the redhead's embrace.

"I don't understand," Axel muttered, the vibration in his chest from his deep voice soothing as it passed into Roxas. A hand rubbed absently along his back in a slow arc. "These things aren't meant to be dangerous at all. It wasn't supposed to be like this." He drew back gently, holding the upset blond at arm's length, expression concerned as he said, "We won't lose each other again, okay? I'm right here. We'll go find the others, and we'll go see the stupid bag on the hill, and see if the stupid train goes past, and then I'll take you home."

Roxas nodded numbly. "O-okay." He clutched at Axel's hand as they left the room, still trembling. "Imagine if… you'd left when your watch went off." The thought sent a spike of panic through his chest. Axel squeezed him reassuringly.

"Nothing happens without reason, right Roxie? I stayed because I was meant to stay. It wasn't supposed to frighten you, and you sure as hell weren't supposed to pass out."

Roxas nodded jerkily. "But – it didn't really happen. I… I'd be bleeding if it had…"

"Bleeding!" Axel turned to him with wide eyes, shocked. "Roxas, what _happened _back there?"

Roxas tightened his lips, pressing them firmly together as he shook his head. "I don't want to talk about it. Please."

Axel jerked to a halt, cupping his face in one hand, glaring intently. "Roxas, exactly how badly do you think you should be hurt? What did that Seifer guy do to you?"

"I don't know," Roxas whispered, battling tears all of a sudden. He clamped down on them, shook his head roughly. "No," he grated. "Look, it's fine. It didn't even happen. It was… part of the wonder. Or something. Seifer – wasn't even _there." _

Axel scowled, but allowed them to continue. They searched fruitlessly for a while, Roxas growing tenser by the minute, before deciding to head back to the entrance.

Everyone was waiting, Hayner steaming, getting ready to yell at them for taking so long, until he saw Roxas' expression and stopped. Eyes widening, he came over swiftly and grabbed hold of Roxas. "What the hell happened to you? You look like you got hit by a bus." He glared at Axel. "What did you do to him?"

"Nothing," Axel snarled, offended. "What do you _think _I did to him?"

"Honestly? I wouldn't put anything past you," replied Hayner coldly.

"Hayner, that's enough," Olette snapped, pulling her boyfriend away and taking charge of the situation. "Roxas, come on, let's go you some sunlight." She led the boy carefully out of the tunnel, back into the blessedly warm air, the light like some kind of nectar of the gods as it spilled across him. She found him somewhere to sit, crouched down to unlatch her satchel and pulled out her first-aid kit. "You look awful, Roxas," she stated bluntly, as the others gathered around. "What happened to you?"

"I – " The blond shook slightly, fingers jittering on his knees. "I forgot to eat this morning. And… I got a little claustrophobic, I guess."

No one could say that Roxas didn't think on his feet. Axel watched in faint, well-disguised admiration as the rest of the group swallowed this wholeheartedly, Hayner shooting the redhead an awkward, disgruntled glance. Olette pulled a miniature bottle with a dropper lid from her kit, unscrewing it and sucking the brown fluid inside into the narrow glass tube. "This is a herbal mixture, it helps with shock and nausea. Lift your tongue," she commanded. Roxas did so, catching Axel's smirk and glaring slightly, as the brunette let three drops pool into the scoop of his jaw beneath the muscle. She drew the tube out and twisted the lid back onto the bottle, as Roxas closed his mouth, screwing up his face at the bitter flavour.

"That'll get going in a few minutes. Until then, I have water." She rummaged through her pack and pulled out a plastic bottle, pushing it into his hands.

"Aren't you a regular old mother-hen," Axel observed, amused. Olette turned to him proudly.

"I take care of my boys." Her expression fell into a scowl, as Roxas feebly unscrewed the lid and took a small, obligatory mouthful under her watchful glare. "They certainly don't do it for themselves," she accused. Doing his best to appear shamefaced, Roxas drank until he was sure she was satisfied, then stuck the lid back on and passed it over. She straightened, clasping the flap of the satchel back in place, hooking it over her shoulder.

"Better?" she asked expectantly.

"Actually, yeah," he answered truthfully. "Thanks, 'Lette."

She nodded, pleased, and glanced over at the others. "I didn't think to bring any food, so we'll need to get Roxas something before we keep going."

No one argued, and the next hour was spent buying an impromptu lunch to share between them, Roxas being piled with the largest serving. He wasn't exactly hungry – after all, he actually _had _eaten breakfast – but in order to soothe the savage beast that was Olette if you refused her medical ministrations, he forced it all down.

By the time they walked to the station, caught the train around to the Sunset side, and climbed the long, winding trail leading to the peak of Sunset hill, the sun was beginning its early descent, bathing the world in golden-amber light. The closer to the top they got, the nearer to Axel Roxas stayed, grasping his hand tightly. The redhead kept casting warm, reassuring looks down at him, the catlike eyes crinkled at the corners from smiling so often. He hadn't mentioned the destruction of his watch, or his need to complete the deadline, not even once. Roxas appreciated his presence, the willingness he exhibited to protect him from whatever the next wonder had to offer.

Roxas felt safe, surrounded as he was. None of the others had seen anything odd going on, his three friends just thought of the last two days as a pleasant, if slightly boring, way to research a silly topic for a project.

Roxas knew better, and Axel believed him. That was, if nothing else, a comfort.

Sweaty and tired, they trekked past the last rise, muscles relaxing as the ground levelled out. Hayner and Olette were hand in hand, enjoying the view, while Pence had gone to the fence protecting visitors from simply tumbling down the other, steeper side, his beloved camera out and clicking away, capturing the colour-streaked sky as best as he was able.

Nervously, Roxas scanned the grassy, gravely area. Axel did the same, muttering, "Okay, I'm looking for a ghost bag…"

"God, I hope it's not," Roxas replied seriously, not loosening his grip for even a second. Axel sent him a worried, sympathetic look.

"We'd better check around… the others might see it first…"

"Hell, at least they'd know it was real," Roxas sighed. Together, they wandered the area, but nothing of the ghost-bag variety was leaping out. There was a garbage can to one side, a few sea-salt ice-cream sticks lying around its base. A lumpy Hessian sack sat beside it, neck tied, but it wasn't looking particularly haunted. Letting out a despondent breath, Axel went over and nudged it with his foot. "Feels solid," he mumbled. Then, "Holy freaking _shit!" _

The other three snapped around as Axel leapt back, Roxas letting out a strangled shriek as the sack suddenly blazed to life, bouncing and shifting, the sides punching out as if from some inside force.

"What the – !" Hayner came racing over, eyes wide, Olette and Pence only a few paces behind. Everyone let out simultaneously shouts as the bag lurched drunkenly, slamming noisily into the garbage can. Roxas grabbed onto Axel, heart hammering in his throat, as a mournful yowling issued forth from the creation. It reared back and fell sideways, growling and pulsating.

"What _is _it?" Olette cried, clinging to Hayner. Axel's eyes narrowed. Detaching Roxas too fast for the blond to object, he darted around to one side, motions fluid, a confidence to his step. He swept in from the side and gave the bag a medium-force kick. It snarled and punched towards the redhead, before letting out a series of barks.

"What…?" Pence looked at Hayner and Olette, puzzled. "It sounds like – a dog."

Olette let out a gasp. "Oh, my God, Pence! You're right! Hayner!" She whirled to her boyfriend. "Use your knife to cut open the bag!"

"Are you _joking?" _the blond demanded. "It'll tear me to pieces!"

"Give it to me, then," Axel commanded. "I'll get it out."

"Fine," agreed Hayner hurriedly, hooking out his butterfly knife and unclipping it, handing it over to the redhead.

Axel threw the knife from his left hand to his right, gripped it tight, circled the heaving sack. "Good dog," he said sweetly, making the viciousness abate slightly. "Good boy. You're a good dog, aren't you?" A stifled whimper came from within the bag. "You're not going to rip Uncle Axel's arm off, are you, you rabies-ridden mutt, huh?" He stepped closer, seized the top of the brown material and slashed it open before the animal within could react. With a growl and a yelp, the dog struggled free of the sack, Axel already jumping out of biting range. It was a mangy-looking beast, shaggy, unkempt from its time trapped away. As it shook itself violently, and ran off down the hill, Olette said, "Oh, the poor thing!" She had a hand hovering over her mouth, horrified. They all were, to varying degrees, shaken by the experience.

"What kind of person," asked Hayner slowly, with building rage, "ties a dog into a bag and leaves it next to a garbage can?"

"Some sick fucker," replied Axel coldly, gazing down the hill. He folded the blade of the knife back into its handle and tossed it to the blond, with nodded thanks.

"Wow," said Pence, frowning. "I mean – how long has that even been up here? We heard about these wonders the other day… How _long _has that dog been _in _there?"

They fell silent, appalled. "What a great finish to the day," Hayner said with a brittle laugh. "That's fucking gross."

"Wait, though," Axel said. "There's still another one left. The train, remember?"

Olette was uncertain. "I don't know, Axel… I'm kind of put off the wonders now. I don't really care about it anymore."

Axel groaned. "But the project! Come on, you guys, it's meant to pass by at around sunset – we do this, and we can go home, we're done. Don't blow it just yet, okay?"

They exchanged dubious glances. Roxas shook his head. "Well, I'm staying. That one was just – obviously something really sick. The others weren't; it's not like the wonders were set up by the same person who tied the dog up. Someone must've seen the bag and freaked out, thinking it was haunted." He turned to the others. "Axel's right, you guys, we need to just get this done, then all we have to do is visit the mansion on Tuesday after school, write it all up, and abandon it to our memories."

Unhappily, Olette nodded. "Well – alright. But only because it's for school."

They shifted reluctantly over to the fence overlooking the train line passing through the hill, leaning against it in the dwindling light, the sun casting golden streaks across their faces and hair. A cool wind blew, brushing Roxas' spikes around his cheeks.

Axel had his head turned sideways, studying him as he gripped the wooden bars, leaning over, peering intently downward. "How you feeling?" he asked quietly. Roxas flicked him a glance, pushing back slowly. He shrugged.

"I'm okay, I guess. I feel bad for the dog." He smiled faintly. "You did good, letting it out like that."

"Hey," Hayner complained from the other side of Olette, "I'd have done it if I didn't think it was going to _maul _me."

"Which is why _I _get to be the conquering hero, Blondie," Axel bragged. "Despite threat to life and limb, animal saver Axel leapt to the rescue!"

"Unbelievable _douchebag _Axel, more like," the taller blond muttered.

Roxas lowered himself to the grass, onto his stomach, propping his chin on his hands to watch for the train in a more comfortable position. Hayner and Olette started a murmured conversation, the girl leaning back against the fence, while Pence busied himself inserting a new roll of film into his camera. Axel laid on the ground beside Roxas, on his back, hands under his head to survey the dimming sky. Things were peaceful.

"You know," said Axel lazily, causing the blue-eyed teen to look over, "this is why I like this place. In Hollow Bastion, you could never find the time or a nice spot to just… sit and watch the sky at sunset. I'm looking at clouds, trying to figure out their shapes, and I'm pretty sure I haven't done this since I was a kid."

Roxas inched his elbows along the dirt, getting closer. "How come?"

Axel raised his eyebrows slowly, meeting his gaze. "Oh, well, there's just so much to do, I guess. And there's no grassy spots like this. Only rooftops. It's a real city."

Roxas hummed in understanding. "It's good that you came, then. It's a nice thing to be able to do."

Sudden concern laced the redhead's features as he stared at the blond. "You're not… thinking of changing your mind though, are you?"

Roxas glanced past him at the others, making sure no one was eavesdropping. "You mean about leaving?" he asked in a low voice.

"Yeah."

Roxas shook his head, and smiled. "I tell you what: when we do go, I'll make sure we find a place to watch the sunset. Even if it's on a rooftop. And we can watch the clouds and all." He shrugged, eyes drifting upward. "The sky's not going anywhere. It'll be the same wherever I go. This will be a nice thing to do in any town."

Axel beamed. "That sounds good to me."

"What sounds good?" Pence asked brightly, coming over to join them.

Awkwardly, they looked at each other. "Oh, well, you know, just – "

"_Well, well, well." _Roxas stiffened, eyes shooting wide. The group turned as one, to see Seifer and his fellow Disciplinary Committee members, Rai and Fuu, cresting the hill. Typically, the athletic blond didn't look at all tired out by the ascent, not having even broken a sweat. "What are you losers doing up here?"

Cocky swagger in place, he approached the wary teenagers. Roxas, feeling vulnerable on his stomach, twisted around and sat up against the fence, knees drawn against his chest, arms locked around them. Hayner, distastefully, greeted him. "Seifer, what do you want?"

"Nice to see you, too, chicken-wuss," came the sneered response.

"You're Seifer?" Axel had pushed himself up onto his hands, running an unconcerned, sceptical eye over the blond. "Huh."

Seifer's eyes narrowed. "Who the fuck are you?"

"The name's Axel," the redhead replied, chin rising, a smirk in place. "I'm new around town."

"I see. An outsider." The blond took a few menacing steps forward, Axel's smile growing all the while. "You better watch yourself, outsider," Seifer threatened. "I _own _this town, I _run _it, and if you step a toe out of line – "

"Oh, no, daddy, please don't ground me," Axel cried in a falsetto, girlish voice, eyelashes fluttering, unable to contain his laughter as he twirled his hands around his face.

Seifer's expression darkened. Rai stepped forward angrily. "Don't make fun of Seifer, y'know?" he warned. "He can make your life a misery."

"How?" asked Hayner, sounding bored. "It's not like we even go to the same school anymore."

"You think I need a playground to beat you up, loser?" Seifer jeered, momentarily forgetting the redhead.

"You might think you own this place," sighed Axel in a sing-song, "but you'd be wrong." He grinned. "Your delusions of grandeur are _hilarious."_

Seifer's eyes bulged. "I see we've got an _outsider _to teach the _rules _to," he snarled, hands forming fists. Rai and Fuu leapt into fighting stances either side of him, while Hayner bristled, and Axel giggled.

"Look!" yelled Roxas suddenly. Having Seifer so close after the earlier trauma in the tunnels had been too unnerving for him to remain looking at the older blond. He had long-since turned to gaze out at the tracks, gripping the bars of the fence, and now his shout interrupted the brewing fight, everyone swinging their heads around to frown at the excited boy. _"It's the train!" _

"A train?" Seifer raised a blond eyebrow.

"Oh!" Olette turned, leaning over the fence, Pence at her side, peering down at the tracks.

A small, midnight blue train was travelling along the line, only a few carriages connected. Roxas narrowed his eyes, squinting through the approaching driver's window, searching for signs of occupation.

"What the hell are you idiots doing?"

Just as it got close enough to see, the sun flashed off the front window, evoking cries from the other two as they were momentarily blinded. Roxas nearly fell forward, face just about squeezing through the bars in his efforts, saved from the flare by his lower angle. He gasped, and the train disappeared at high speed into the tunnel.

"Ahh," Olette whined, rubbing at her eyes and blinking. "I can hardly see!"

"I – I saw it," Roxas said, awed. "I…" He looked up at Axel. "There's no driver."

Axel smiled. "So this one was a wonder, then."

Roxas broke out into a smile. "I don't believe it! It's – it's like an actual ghost train! There was really _no one driving it!"_

"I don't believe what I'm hearing." Seifer's arms were crossed, his previous anger discarded in favour of scorn. "Are you telling me that you came up here looking for ghost trains?" He groaned. "You losers get more stupid every time I see you."

"Hey, shut up," snapped Roxas. "It really _was_ a ghost train. There was no one in it, and no one driving it! What else could it be?"

"Uh, Roxas having a dick-wit attack?"

"Shut your face, pretty-boy," Axel said easily. "Roxas knows what he saw. He's the most open-eyed person on this hill. If he says it was there, then it was there."

"Well," the blond retorted wryly, "I can see outsiders' disease is contagious. Roxas, I thought I knew you better than this, but it looks like the red-haired freak has got to you." He shook his head disdainfully. "I don't have time for this. You idiots can drool over each other in search for a brain cell or two while you're busy looking for ghost trains. Me, I'm going to go find something better to do with my time." He turned, sauntered away, entourage trailing along behind, flicking a hand over his shoulder. "Catch you later, losers."

"Yeah, piss off," Hayner muttered. As they disappeared from view, he turned to Roxas doubtfully. "Was there really no one driving that train?"

"Really," said the blond earnestly. "I swear it, Hayner, it was totally empty."

His friend shrugged. "Well, we'll write it up in our report. Come on, you guys. That was kind of a sucky end to a sucky day. I feel like going home and eating junk food."

"You mean while you do your homework?" Olette said pointedly. Hayner groaned.

"'Lette, I've spent all _day _doing homework. I'm only one man!"

Axel pulled Roxas to his feet, the blond frowning as he watched his friends begin their descent of the hill, moving slowly to let Seifer get well enough ahead. "They didn't believe me."

Axel shrugged, casting an arm around his shoulders, tugging him close as they got walking. "It happens. Sometimes, people can't see what's right in front of their faces. No use having eyes if you keep them closed your whole life." He kissed the blond quickly on the cheek, before he could react, and said, "You know I believe you, Roxie. I'll always believe anything you tell me."

Blushing lightly, Roxas glanced up slyly. "What if I lie to you?"

"I'll still believe you," Axel admitted. "That's why you gotta always tell me the truth. It'd be too easy for you to manipulate me, if you wanted to."

The blond raised his eyebrows, curiously. "What, really? Isn't that kind of a risky thing to tell me?"

He smiled, gazing down fondly. "Not with you. I trust you, Rox. I know you won't let me down."

Roxas was silent as they trekked back down the hill, thinking about the redhead's words, the honesty of his faith in him. He liked the fact that he held so much power over someone, with the knowledge that he wasn't going to abuse it. It was an elating sensation, holding a heart in your palm. And what he said… that he knew Roxas wouldn't let him down… All Roxas had to do was tell the truth to keep that alive. He didn't have to pretend to be someone he wasn't, he didn't have to waste away, he didn't have to sacrifice himself for the love he held for others… He just had to not abuse this. He just had to be truthful, and Axel would never be disappointed in him.

It was nice, to have so little expectation from the one person that meant so much. It felt achievable, made him think that… maybe he wasn't such a failure at all this, after all.

They caught the train back to Central Station, and the group broke apart with various farewells and promises to meet up the next day at lunch. Axel again walked Roxas home, dim twilight swimming through the air.

"So, I'll see you tomorrow at school, I guess," Roxas said, smiling up at the redhead.

"You sure will, Roxie."

Axel bent down, face hovering near the blond's. When Roxas didn't pull away, he smiled, and placed a soft kiss on his lips. As he straightened, grinning broadly, Roxas coloured with an embarrassed flush, his mouth curved up at the corners. "Good-night, Roxie."

"Yeah," he muttered. "'Night."

With one last ruffling of the blond's hair, Axel backed away, then set off down the block, Roxas watching until the long crimson spikes were out of sight.

Axel disappeared, and wasn't seen again for nearly four days.


	7. Chapter 7

**A/N: **Urgh. Tired again. I don't much like this chapter, it feels a little empty. Once again, for those who read Water, I beg your patience in the chapters like this, where not much seems to be going on. Blah, blah, gears changing, blah, blah, setting up the path for future events, blah. I really need either a super-espresso, or a twelve-hour nap. Stat.

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CHAPTER SEVEN

Monday morning, Axel didn't turn up to school. Roxas was no longer his mentor, but neither did he have to use that as a reason to care where the redhead was anymore. His disappointment twisted throughout the day to become worry. At lunchtime, he picked at his food, not tasting, not hungry. Noticing his anxiety, Hayner nudged him with a toe.

"Just call the freak. He probably fell over those bean-pole legs on the way to school and needs help getting pulled out of a briar patch."

"Hayner, be nice," Olette scolded, poking him in the side.

"I can't call him," Roxas sighed. "I don't have his number."

"You don't? Oh, come on, what kind of boyfriend is he?"

Roxas glared. "He's _not _my boyfriend. And why should I care that he's not at school, anyway?"

"Oh, right, because that depressed little face you've got going on, that's just a default expression. Roxas doesn't care at _all." _

Sulking, Roxas took a bite of his lunch. The rest of the day passed, and still, no Axel. Roxas missed him, couldn't help but remember that the redhead had crushed his watch the day before… The watch that always had him running off for some errand or whatever, and the one time he ignores it – the next day he just doesn't turn up? He'd said just last night that he'd be there… Did he get sick? Was he doing the deadline thing today instead of coming to school? Was he – in trouble?

Work crawled by, the blond perched on the stool behind the counter, glancing up sharply every time a customer entered, hoping to see a wild thatch of crimson scrape the top of the doorframe. Never before had he hated the soccer moms and little brats that walked in like he did right now, wishing them all off the face of the planet if only Axel would be there in their place.

"Stupid Roxas," he hissed at himself, scraping a hand, frustrated, through his hair. "Can't go one day without the bean-pole? _Stupid."_

A week had passed, almost to the hour, since he had first collided with Axel's chest and grazed his palms. One week. One week, and he wanted to leave, one week, and he wanted the guy with stalker-tendencies to always be around, _one freaking week. _It was too much, too soon, and Roxas felt like he couldn't breathe not knowing where the redhead had gone.

Had he _left? _No. Axel wouldn't have gone without him. And if he came this minute, sweaty and out of breath, and told Roxas that it was time? What would Roxas do?

He was pretty damn sure what he'd do, and it didn't involve reseating himself behind the counter to continue his homework.

_Stupid _Roxas.

Stupid _Axel. _Why had he never shown Roxas where he lived? Why _didn't _the blond have his number? Why was it that, if he so chose, Axel could come and fling rocks at his window in the middle of the night, but Roxas couldn't even call him to ask if he was okay when he wasn't where he said he'd be?

Well, damn it, that was going to change. Roxas stabbed his pen moodily into his history paper. Tomorrow morning, he'd get Axel's number, his address, his _blood type_ if necessary. The redhead liked his secrets way too much, and if he wasn't going to tell Roxas anything about himself in a personal way, he could at least allow the blond to get in touch with him when he wanted to. How one-sided was this friendship supposed to be, anyway?

Decided, slightly calmer because of it, Roxas was able to get through the rest of his shift without screaming at the cliental. Five-thirty rolled around, and Roxas could close the store. Wearily, he swept the shop, restocked the shelves, straightened everything, wiped down the counter, and set the alarm. He slung his backpack over his shoulder and locked the door, exiting into the cool night. He huffed a sigh, eyes darting around, feet taking him slowly in the hopes that maybe Axel was out wandering.

Halfway across the tram common, ten minutes from home, he slowed even further, a strange prickling at the back of his neck. He halted, letting the breeze flip his clothing, expression cautious as he glanced about. Still haunting his memories was the encounter with Seifer, yesterday in the tunnels. When Seifer found them on Sunset hill, he'd given no sign that anything had happened between them. He had said nothing of the tunnels, and Roxas was under the impression that if he asked the blond about it, all he'd receive was a blank look and an insult. Seifer hadn't been there. Not the real Seifer – not the flesh and blood one that used to pound him and Hayner back in fifth grade.

That was a scary thought, because Roxas was now forced to wonder exactly what the hell he _had_ encountered in the tunnel. Between ghost trains, enchanted walls, living shadows and invisible steps, he wasn't sure what to think.

So now, here in the common, when that weird little tingle assaulted his hidden senses, Roxas started to feel sick. He started to feel spooked. He didn't want to get beaten up again, even if the bruises didn't linger. He turned slowly, eyes scanning the quiet area, shoes scraping the pavement. It was too late for this. He was tired, and pretty sure Axel wasn't coming to the rescue if anything went wrong.

There didn't appear to be anything in the immediate vicinity… And his ears told him nothing was coming from further out… So where was this coming from? Had he just turned paranoid overnight, or what?

A speck of white caught his attention, a slight amount of movement from the high walkway overlooking the common. There was a person there… Roxas' eyes narrowed, gaze sharpening in an attempt to make them out… Some girl?

Just as some whisper of memory was brushing the edges of his mind, she turned away, continuing on, and Roxas lost sight of her. He hesitated. If he started running now, he'd probably be able to catch up to her… and… get pepper-sprayed for frightening her.

Man, he was losing it. He shook his head, dispelling the last of the creepiness, fixing his eyes firmly on the sidewalk, feet moving one in front of the other.

As he reached home, he paused, frowning over at the lit windows, eyes travelling automatically up to his own. He twisted, looking up and down the road for a long minute.

When Axel still didn't appear, he headed inside.

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Another day. Still no Axel. Roxas was becoming distracted. He slouched low in his chair at the lunch table, hearing the chatter go on around him but taking in so few words that nothing was making sense.

"What do you think, Roxas?"

Roxas was staring at his sandwich. White bread. Amazing.

"Roxas? Earth to Roxas, come in, Roxas."

"Heh, no, try this: _Axel. _Axel, Axel, Axel, Axel, _Axel."_

Roxas blinked, looked up, frowning. "What – ? What about Axel?"

"Oh, for Pete's sake. Told you it'd work." Hayner balled up the wrapper from his burger and tossed it expertly at the blond's head. It bounced off, down onto his lap. Roxas scowled.

"What?"

Pence rolled his eyes. "We were asking if you think we should go ahead with the mansion this afternoon. You know, even though Axel's not around."

"You figure out what happened to bean-pole yet?" Hayner asked disinterestedly, chair rocking back on two legs, gripping the table with one hand and the back of Olette's chair with his other.

"No," said Roxas dully. "I've looked around, but I haven't seen him since Sunday."

"I'm sure he's okay," Olette comforted. "Maybe he caught a bug or something. You could always ask at the admin office. His mom would have to call him in sick for attendance."

Roxas froze, hands flat on the table, staring at the brunette. "That's it," he breathed, amazed he hadn't thought of it himself. "Olette, you're a _genius! _I can ask the school!"

"Of course she is," Hayner scoffed. "She's my girl – she's as close to perfect as they come."

"Is that because she's your girl, or because she's Olette?" Pence grinned.

"A little bit of both," Hayner admitted with false modesty. "After all, we have to take my own perfection into account."

"Or lack thereof," Roxas added absently, already gathering his things and standing. "I'll see you guys in class." He was running before Hayner could even formulate a reply, leaving the blond spluttering indignantly.

Roxas burst out of the cafeteria, hurrying for the administration building, still zipping up his bag. He rushed over the grass, up the stone steps, and down the long hallway to the main office. The same secretary was there, the one who'd introduced him to Axel in the first place. Breathlessly, remembering at the last minute to smile and be polite, he asked, "Miss Charon, can you tell me what happened to Axel, the new student? He's the one I've been mentoring. He hasn't been to class yet this week, and I wanted to know why."

"Oh, hello, Roxas; yes, I remember the one. Who could forget that hair?" She gave a tinkling laugh. "Now, let me see…" She tapped a pen to her lips. "Now, I know he hasn't been at school, because of the absentee slips we've been getting from his classes. Nobody's called for him, either, so I'm afraid I can't help you with that. We tried calling his home, but no one's picking up."

Roxas' face fell. "So – you don't know where he is, either?"

She shook her head. "I'm afraid not. I hope it doesn't last long, or he'll fall behind. After only a week, too!"

"Oh." Roxas fell silent, thinking for a moment, a worried frown in place. "Well, in that case, can you tell me his address, please? That way I can swing by his place maybe after school…"

Regretfully, she replied, "I can't do that, Roxas, sweetie. We're not allowed to give out student details like that, not even to other students. It's a confidentiality thing."

"But we have an assignment due," he attempted desperately. "We need his notes. Please, it's really important."

She shook her head firmly. "I'm sorry, Roxas, but it's against the rules. The school doesn't have permission to give out student details, not to anyone." She gave a sympathetic smile. "I'm sure if you explain it to your teacher, you'll get a break, or some extra time at least. Don't you worry." She patted the fingers clutching the high desk in a reassuring manner.

"But you told Axel where I lived," Roxas argued. "Why can't you do the same for me?"

Her eyebrows shot up, a startled look on her face. "I did no such thing! And neither would anyone else here, for that matter. I told you, it's just not _allowed. _Anyone that gave out that sort of information would be in a whole heap of trouble."

"But… he said it was you…" Roxas was bewildered. Miss Charon scowled.

"Then he lied to you, Roxas, dear. I don't know why he'd say such a thing, but I promise you, I didn't tell him where you live."

The blond stared at her perplexedly. "Then – how did he know where I live?"

The secretary shrugged. "That's something you'll have to ask him yourself. Sorry I couldn't be more help to you, sweetie."

Roxas left the office, stood outside on the pathway for a long minute, gazing at nothing as his mind raced, touching from memory to memory, theory to theory, trying to find a reason why Axel would lie – or how he knew where to find Roxas at three in the morning, three days after meeting him the first time.

All Roxas had to do was not lie. That was it. Just don't fucking _lie, _Roxas, because Axel will believe the lies. You can say whatever the fuck you _want, _and he won't question it.

"_Look, Roxas, it's nothing to get paranoid over, okay? The school told me, when they made you my mentor. Apparently, we only live a few blocks apart, so they told me your address. Okay?"_

"…_you're making me feel like the world's creepiest stalker, Roxie. I didn't want to give you fuel for that."_

"World's creepiest stalker," Roxas muttered. Axel had lied. He had smiled, and lied.

He was going to find Axel and kick his _ass._

And then demand answers, damn it.

It wasn't fair. It wasn't _fucking _fair.

Roxas slung his bag over his shoulder and stomped across the grass, leaving the school grounds behind as he headed into town, determined to find Axel, wherever he was hiding. He checked everywhere he could think of, the toy store, the ice cream stand, the station, he even ventured into the tunnels, calling the redhead's name, hearing it echo back mockingly.

After maybe two hours, he was pulling himself hopelessly up the stairs of the clock tower. Sure enough, reaching the top, he found himself alone on the monument. A brisk wind blew. Sighing, Roxas went to the low wall and knelt down, leaning his elbows against it, gazing out mutely at the spread of Twilight Town, wondering where, in amongst the ant-like structures, the lying, hurtful teenager waited. He was tired, and knew there'd be hell to pay once he got home – from his parents, from his friends, from his school. Nothing was going right, and it was all Axel's fault.

One last chance remained on Roxas' map of possibilities: the old mansion. Perhaps, maybe, there was the slimmest chance that Axel remembered that they were meant to be meeting there… maybe he would be there. He'd broken a deadline to stay with Roxas to complete the wonders… It might be enough to draw him out. Wearily, Roxas descended the long steps and made for the tram common.

The road to the mansion, which had belonged to one of the founders of Twilight Town, had been closed off decades ago. It had been abandoned for so long that, with no one interested in renovating or preserving it, the town officials decided the safest thing to do would be to make it inaccessible. This way, no pesky teenagers would go get drunk and pregnant on its sagging floors, no mischievous pyros would find it funny to set it alight, no hardy adventurers would be able to tumble down a creaking staircase and snap their necks. It was shut away, presumed forgotten, the forest growing thick around it with the passing years.

Roxas didn't know who had knocked the hole in the side of the tram common, or when – rumour had it one of the trams had skipped its track and rammed the wall, but as well as that theory fit the hole, Roxas hadn't ever heard of the trams being anything but perfectly safe and controlled. Either way, the hole led directly into the woods. Being in a tucked-away corner, no one official enough had noticed enough to get it fixed. Besides which, with the stories of its haunted state, not many were eager to go check it out. You'd think that they would, that the fear factor would make the rebellious experience just that bit spicier, but something about the place left a creeping in your gut, a bad taste in your mouth. The woods were rarely frequented.

Roxas ducked through the gaping mouth in the wall, the temperature dropping instantly as he passed into the trees on the other side. He hesitated, glancing back, wondering if he should wait and see if the others were coming… But this might be the only time that Axel would be here. This was all he could do to try and talk to the redhead.

He picked through the forest, the old trees widely spaced enough to leave a decent path to follow. The tram common entrance had got him in pretty close to the ancient mansion, the light filtering through the leafy canopy becoming lighter after only ten minutes.

Roxas emerged from the woods, the derelict manor standing before him, its rusty gates hanging open a few feet. He approached the bars, touching them hesitantly, running his hand across the cold, rusted metal. He glanced around nervously. Now that he was here, all he could think of was the freaky stuff that had happened to him since they began this hunt of wonders, and the fact that he'd come to the biggest one all alone.

"Damn it, Axel," he muttered. Then he raised his voice, turning angrily to the silent trees. _"Damn it, Axel! Where are you? You great – big – fucking – liar!"_

"Hello, Roxas."

Letting out a shrill scream, Roxas flung himself around, falling to the overgrown grass in his panic. A girl stood there, a pale eyebrow raised in curiosity, blue eyes dubious. "I'm sorry," she said. "Did I scare you?"

"Who're you?" he choked.

Her fingertips gently rested together, cupid's-bow mouth curving into a sweet smile. "I'm Naminé. I heard you shouting. Is everything okay?"

"Oh, uh… yeah." Roxas reached up to scratch his head awkwardly.

The girl didn't stop smiling as she said, "You might want to get up. There's an ants nest really close to your left leg."

Roxas yelped, scrambling to his feet, shaking off the one or two insects that had managed to cling to his jeans. He laughed uneasily, the pale girl still watching him and – smiling that damn smile. Then he frowned. "Wait – how do you know my name?"

Her eyebrows rose in gentle surprise. "Roxas, we used to go to school together. Don't you remember me?"

Roxas froze, head tilting to the side. "We…"

"_You think I don't know by now the way you look at your crushes? This is just like that Naminé chick all over again, only with a redhead who's a dude, and looks like he wants to molest you behind some bushes."_

"Naminé!" Roxas was startled. How was it that Hayner had recalled her so easily? How was it that Roxas had _forgotten _her? She was, like, his huge fifth-grade crush. That was fifth-grade in a nutshell: getting beat up by Seifer, and pining after the delicate blonde girl that wore a lot of white. But… he hadn't thought about her in a couple years. He hadn't even… realised she was gone. What the hell?

"Naminé – I remember you." She smiled, nose scrunching happily.

"It's been a while," she admitted. "But I'm glad I wasn't too far gone from your memories yet."

Roxas blinked, shook his head. "I can't believe this. What are you even _doing _here? You left, right? You left Twilight Town?"

She nodded, hands lowering to the hem of her short ivory sundress. "That's correct. I left two years ago, when we were sixteen."

She'd left. She'd found a way to – to get out. Come to think of it, that was roughly around when Roxas had started feeling out of place. Sixteen – that was the last time he'd been happy, before realising he was trapped. Had Naminé's departure brought that on? Was she the catalyst to all this?

"Why the hell are you back?" Roxas blurted. Then he blushed. "I mean… sorry. It's just…"

She shook her head. "How about we go inside to talk? It gets pretty chilly out here."

"Oh, right – you're just in that dress. Uh…" He cast a doubtful look up at the mansion. "Inside? You mean, in there?"

She laughed softly. "Silly, of course in there. There's nothing to be frightened of, I come here all the time. It's a nice, lonely place."

Roxas nodded slowly. "Well, okay then."

It was only once he was through the gates, following Naminé's little steps, that he remembered: this was supposed to be a _haunted _mansion.

Enter the girl, out of nowhere, that no one had seen for two years. Add to that the fact that she remembered him so clearly, when his memories of her were still so fuzzy. Add to _that_ her ethereal, pale appearance, and suddenly Roxas wasn't feeling so confident.

He drew back, stopping partway to the massive house. She sensed his hesitation, turned inquisitively. "Roxas? Is something the matter?"

He was staring up at the mansion. "This is the seventh wonder," he said aloud. His gaze shifted to the girl and narrowed. "Where have you been all this time, anyway?"

"If you come inside, I can show you," she offered. Roxas back off sharply.

"Thanks all the same," he said, voice hard. "But I think I'll stay out here. Maybe some other time."

She frowned, coming back towards him. "Roxas, what's wrong?"

"Nothing, nothing at all," he snapped. "Are you going to let me go or not?"

She blinked, eyebrows shooting high. "I – well…" She looked unhappy. "Okay, if that's what you want. I mean…" She glanced over her shoulder. "Is it the house? Because if you're uncomfortable, we could always just go into town for a coffee or something… Unless – you're just not interested." She watched uncertainly, a little disappointed. Her narrow shoulders shrugged slightly. "Okay, Roxas, I mean, it's your choice. I just wanted to… you know… catch up."

Manipulation alert. Was she trying to guilt him into staying? Or was she honestly not a ghost and just wanted to see her old classmate?

Suspiciously, Roxas asked, "Is coffee really okay? I mean, if I don't enter the house at all – that's cool?"

She brightened. "Well – sure, Roxas." She gave a small laugh. "I personally don't find it scary, but I still remember all the stories… If you'll hold on for a second for me to get my bag, we can just walk back into town – you'll wait, won't you?" She shot him a hesitant grin. "You're not going to run off while my back's turned, right?"

Roxas shook his head with a nervous laugh. "No, I won't run. Not unless you turn out to be a soul-sucking ghost."

"Oh – well, I don't know about that, but I might put you out of pocket a little – I don't have any change or anything, can you spot me the coffee this time? And I'll buy next time?"

Roxas paused, assessing her sincerity. This didn't seem like an act, and she didn't really look like a ghoul. She seemed… nice. She looked just like she used to, only – older. Cautiously, he relaxed. "No problem. Go get your bag. I'll wait outside the gate."

She nodded happily and trotted up to the mansion's wide front door, pushing it open and disappearing in. Roxas quickly vacated the premises, not quite at ease until he had a few meters between himself and the intimidating structure. When Naminé reappeared a few minutes later, a large messenger bag hooked over her shoulder, he was actually feeling a little better than he had been on the way over. And he – oh.

"Oh, shit," Roxas said miserably. Naminé paused, startled.

"What is it? Did you leave your money at home?"

He shook his head gloomily. "Naminé, I'm so sorry, I just remembered I came here looking for someone. I was hoping… he'd be here, but – " He looked out at the trees and sighed. "I don't know if I should leave yet. I really want to see him."

"Do you mean – Axel?" she asked curiously.

Roxas jolted, eyes widening. "What? You know Axel?"

She smiled and shook her head. "No, but it was the name you yelled out earlier… I figured, since you seemed upset at the thought of not seeing whoever you wanted to meet, it must be that boy."

"He's disappeared," Roxas told her dejectedly. "He's my friend. He was meant to be at school yesterday, but I haven't seen him since Sunday, and not even the school can get in touch with him, and no one will tell me where he lives, and – "

"Whoa, Roxas, slow down." Naminé patted his arm comfortingly. "If you want, we can stay here and wait for your friend. I really don't mind. It means you'd have to be brave and come inside, though, because I'm kind of freezing my ass off with all this shade everywhere. And there's a mosquito breeding ground nearby – I'm being eaten." She offered up an arm, displaying several small welts. "See?" She drew her black bag up, the contrast almost startling against her pale colouring and clothing, arms clutching it to her chest. "So, please? Make a decision?"

Roxas was torn. Ghost house, or risk missing Axel? Old crush back from oblivion, or the liar?

Did Roxas really want to hang around until he was sure Axel wasn't going to be there?

He muttered, "Come on, let's go. I could do with a caffeine hit."

Damn it, Axel.

-------

"What did you mean when you said you could 'show me'?"

Naminé looked up from her coffee, pulling the cup from her lips, the tip of her tongue darting out to clean her bottom lip of the clinging drops. "Hm?"

Roxas drummed his fingers moodily on the table, holding his chin in the other hand. "When I asked where you'd been all this time, you said you could show me if I went inside with you. Did you, like, commandeer the mansion for the last two years?"

She giggled behind her hand, shook her head, perfect hair swinging slightly. "No, look, I can show you here as well." She drew the messenger bag up onto her knees and unclipped it, carefully withdrawing a sheaf of thick paper. She set it down on the table, spreading the pieces apart, allowing Roxas to look.

"Wow, Naminé," he breathed, eyes widening as he picked one up. In blue pencil, she had sketched a series of panoramas the likes of which Roxas had never seen before, meadows and forests and cities and rivers. "I didn't know you were an artist."

"Oh, I've always loved to draw, but I never really got into it until I left." She leaned forward, peering down to see which one he was viewing. "These are some of the places that I've been. That one's from a city called Zanarkand. Very beautiful, lots of lights and people." She shrugged self-deprecatingly. "These ones haven't been coloured yet, so you can't really feel it, but the ones at the mansion are complete."

"Oh…" Realisation dawned over Roxas' features. "Oh, so that's why you wanted me to come in to show me…" He grinned sheepishly. "I'll have to see them next time."

"You want to see my pictures of other places?" Her head tilted to the side, watchful.

"If you'll let me, sure," Roxas enthused, still sorting through the images. "These are really great, Naminé. You should sell them."

"I do, sometimes, but I really just do it because I love to, not to make a living." She sighed. "It's got a little more difficult lately. There are travel restrictions…"

"Man." Roxas shook his head in dismay, eyes shifting from one drawing to the next. "You've spent the last two years of your life travelling, visiting all these amazing places… And through it all, I've just been going to school, living my boring old life." He gave her a crooked, sad smile. "I envy you that, seriously."  
"You don't have to envy me, Roxas," she scolded lightly, crossing her arms on the table. "All you have to do is do it yourself. Maybe not the drawing part, I don't know if you like to do that sort of thing, but the places are real – you could leave anytime you wanted."

Roxas was silent for a few minutes, studying the pictures, lost in thought. "It's funny," he said at last. "You're the second person in two weeks to turn up out of nowhere, and try and convince me to leave Twilight Town."

"I guess it must just be that time of your life," she replied, eyes crinkling up at the corners. "After all, it's not like you're a little kid anymore. If you wanted to, you could pack up and leave tomorrow – no one would stop you."

He nodded slowly, then slipped the papers together into a neat pile and met her blue gaze. "What was it like for you? What made you want to go?"

She looked around carefully. "Well," she said, "It just felt like a good time for it. I was feeling restless, just sitting around here. All the other girls were busy dating boys and putting on make-up…" She gestured a hand at her unadorned features and shrugged. "It doesn't sound like much of a reason to just up and go, but it was lots of different things. Being a sixteen-year-old girl in Twilight Town isn't much fun if you're not part of the herd."

Roxas blinked, straightening slightly, surprised. "But you were always so popular. Everyone wanted to be your friend, and all the guys had crushes on you…"

"When we were in middle-school, sure," she conceded, "but the older we got, the less I fit in. I changed, and everyone else stayed the same. There's nothing _wrong _with this life – it's just not for me." She gazed out at the few pedestrians ambling past in the dim light. "I mean, look at this place, Roxas – it's five o'clock, and the town's shutting down already, just because it's getting a little dark out." She shook her head, expression distant. "It's a nice, pretty, sleepy little town, and the people that live here are usually happy, but when you're wanting more out of life, this nice, pretty, sleepy little town… it's like a _prison." _She flattened her hands on the table, a perplexed expression on her heart-shaped face. "That's how it felt to me back then. It's why I left. Don't you – _feel _it, too?" When Roxas just stared, Naminé flushed, a hand fluttering to her mouth. "I'm sorry, Roxas," she said quietly. "I shouldn't have said those things. This is – your town."

"No, no – please," he replied, equally softly, with desperation. "Don't stop talking, Nam. You – you're right. You're… the first person I've ever met that felt the same way as me." His eyes lowered. "Well, except for Axel. But he's not even from here."

"Tell me about him," she commanded curiously, hands curling together.

"What's to tell?" Roxas scowled, face turning sharply down and to the side. "I thought he was my friend, but I found out today he's been telling me lies. I mean…" He wiped his eyes tiredly. "He _is _my friend, and his lies don't really change how I feel about him… But…" He sighed. "I just wish I could speak to him. I wish I knew where he was."

"You sound pretty worried," Naminé said softly. "Are you two close?"

Roxas laughed a little, a brittle sound. "Oh, Nam, I don't even know how to answer that. Not without talking to him first."

"I see," she said cautiously. "Well, I'm in town for a little while, so anytime you want to talk, you know where to find me."

Roxas raised an eyebrow. "You're actually staying there? At the mansion?"

"Sure, why not?" She gathered her pictures, arranging them carefully as she spoke. "If there's one thing you learn while you're travelling, it's to take a bed where you can find it. That old house is just a house, Roxas. No ghosts." She smiled, slipping the papers away. "Promise."

"Yeah. Well, maybe I'll come see your pictures sometime."

"I'd like that." The wristwatch she wore beeped several times, drawing a pout from her lips. "Oh, I'm sorry, Roxas, I have to go."

"Wait, where'd you get that?" His hand snaked across the table, grabbing her wrist urgently, jerking it close, making her squeak.

"Um, I bought it, Roxas. What are you doing?"

He ran his fingertips over the face of the device, frowning. "This thing… it's just like Axel's…"

She laughed, a little incredulously. "Are you trying to accuse me of something?"

Roxas released her, startled. "No! Sorry, Naminé. I was just… surprised." He slumped back in his chair. "I'm really starting to hate watches," he muttered. He met her gaze. "Why do you have to leave?"

Regretfully, she said, "I have some errands to run. I set my alarm earlier so I wouldn't forget…"

"Oh." Roxas nodded wearily. "Well, I should be going anyway, I guess. Everyone will be wondering where I am…"

She was already standing, clipping her bag up. She gave him one last affectionate look. "This was really great, Roxas. I hope you'll come to the mansion and visit. We can order take-out or something. Just – " She giggled. "Not home-delivered."

"Sure, Naminé." He smiled. "That sounds great."

"I'll see you later." She flipped a wave, adjusting the strap of her bag over her shoulder, and left the coffee shop.

Roxas buried his head in his hands, his drink stone-cold on the table in front of him, while around him the store manager stacked chairs up onto tables. The blond wondered what it was like in a city of lights and people, where the world continued to exist beyond nightfall. Beyond Naminé's nice, pretty, sleepy little prison.

So, there _were _others who felt the same way as him. He wasn't alone in that respect. Naminé hadn't even held back, she'd decided life was too hard at sixteen and just _left. _

He wanted to ask her, what about your family? What about your friends? Why are you living in an old, ghost-ridden mansion instead of with your parents?

Did leaving make them hate her? Would leaving make all these people hate _him? _

What would it be like, to lose your loved ones but gain the world? Leaving with _Axel _would make it a little better, but…

Where _was_ Axel? Naminé hadn't said anything about people poking around. She'd been surprised and pleased to see Roxas… You figure if she'd seen any wild redheads drifting about, she'd have mentioned it.

Two days had passed now. Two days, and no sign of Axel, not _anywhere. _Roxas was suddenly afraid to go home – not because of the deep amount of trouble he'd be in, but because he was scared that when he got there, Axel wouldn't be waiting. This whole situation was like pulling nails, and there was nothing he could do to make it better.

Eventually, of course, Roxas had to leave. He _had _to go home. There wasn't a choice in the matter, unless he decided to just ditch now and go camp out with Naminé until she left – but as much as he wanted to leave Twilight Town, he didn't want to just _run away. _That wasn't how he saw it in his mind. Maybe that would make the difference between the two of them – at sixteen, she had to run from home and was now a squatter in the most rickety property in town. Would the extra two years' wait mean that when Roxas went, he'd have his family and friends' blessings? Would he still have a home to come back to?

It just wasn't the same, thinking about it without knowing Axel was going to be there, too.

Roxas had got in far too deep. He could feel it, could feel the fear and anxiety clawing at him. At this point of the evening, he didn't care anymore that Axel had lied – he didn't need to know why, or how he even knew where Roxas lived. All that would come later. Roxas couldn't keep being mad when fear for the redhead was tightening his lungs. If only he understood a little more about Axel, he'd have a better idea of how to act right now. He'd know what to _do _with himself, other than just worry non-stop.

And speaking of worrying non-stop, he was home, and his mother was waiting in the doorway.

"Inside," was all she said, as he warily approached. She turned without waiting for an answer, body language cold with anger. Roxas sighed. It wasn't even six yet. Yes, he'd skipped school, but it wasn't like he'd gone off to drink bourbon and get high behind someone's tool shed. It wasn't like anything could have happened to him – this was Twilight Town, after all – nothing happened to people in Twilight Town.

He could feel the tendrils of her rage crawling through the house as he stepped through the door, and noticed with a sinking stomach that his dad was home early from work, and this time, it wasn't because he wasn't faking sick.

All of this was because of Axel. The redhead had better be at school tomorrow.


	8. Chapter 8

**A/N: **Okay! Chapter eight is ready, and hopefully you like it better than seven! (I know I do). I wrote the first three-quarters by hand, which is why it's taken a little longer to post, but it feels more detailed than it has been. I wasn't expecting to get it finished until much later tonight – yesterday's chapter left me with a rather hefty mental block. But, it's all worked out, so I'm happy enough. :) By the way, guys, do you have any idea how awesome you are? These reviews are delighting me endlessly. Thanks!

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CHAPTER EIGHT

"_First you're talking about leaving home, then you're disappearing from school without a word – no one _knew _where you _were, _Roxas! What's next? What happened to my little boy?"_

Roxas counted the ceiling stars, reached two hundred and started again. Things were falling apart. Since the moment he'd first tasted the idea of freedom, things had been slowly but certainly grinding out of place.

What happened to her little boy? Try checking last week, mom. He's lost back there, and if Axel got his way, last week's Roxas wouldn't be back. Come to think of it, neither would today's.

Axel would turn up. He would. He'd be at school in the morning. He _would. _

So why the hell couldn't Roxas sleep? It was past midnight, his window was open a crack, and every stray noise had him leaping up to peer out. Any one of them could have been the redhead prowling around below – of course, though, none of them were. Trust this to be the one promise he kept.

By two, Roxas had had enough. He couldn't handle being cooped up any longer. He pulled his jacket on over his t-shirt and went for a walk.

Breaths steaming out in puffs, he slowly circled the sleeping block. He thought about Naminé's watch – it really was _identical _to the one Axel always wore, before he threw caution to the wind, crushed it, and went missing twenty-four hours later. Why did those goddamn little timepieces have to be such nagging little bitches? Did they _always _have to lure away the one person giving him hope?

His thoughts came full-circle, as usual, to Axel. Axel, saying, _"I'm sick of it. I'm not denying I won't get in trouble later, but it's nothing I can't handle."_

Same old questions revolving round and round, met the same resounding inner silence. Roxas sighed – it wasn't even worth considering anymore. Instead of questions, he decided to stick with facts: fact one? Axel wasn't around. Deal with it. Fact two: he avoided talking about his family, and didn't want Roxas to know where he lived. Fact three: he _had _worn a watch that went off at random intervals, forcing him to leave any situation almost immediately. Fact four: the one time he ignored the mysterious summons, Axel later went missing.

No one had called to excuse him from school. No one was answering the home phone.

It was the icy early morning of the third day. The cold air must have been good for his mind; this was the quietest it had been in days. Roxas dug his hands deep into his pockets, fists knocking lightly against his hips with each step.

Fact: he didn't want to live in Twilight Town any longer than he had to.

"_How could you do this to your mother and me? We do everything we can for you, and you choose now to decide it's not good enough?"_

"_I never said it wasn't good enough…"_

"_You're acting like a child, Roxas!"_

But until Axel had come along, it – it literally had never occurred to him to try and leave. He had resigned himself to a desperately empty life. If Naminé had never run off, maybe they'd have been dating now, planning their lives together…

It had been nice, seeing her again. Especially knowing that she had escaped – she was just like him. Between her and Axel, he was now sure that, wherever his path led, it would take him far away from home. He belonged out there, free. All he had to do was _find _the redhead. The usual avenues hadn't worked, as pathetic as his attempts had been.

Fact: the school had his goddamn details, and Roxas intended to obtain them.

Still – it didn't do him much good now. The crickets were noisy tonight, littering the bushes every step of the way. Roxas was glad it wasn't summer – with the hot weather, the creepy crawlies liked to come out onto the pavement at night, only to be crunched underfoot. It was a bad enough experience with shoes.

The moon was high and sallow, the stars winking silently to one another. Roxas missed the warmth of an arm around his shoulders. Eventually, he found himself back in front of home, and didn't want to go inside. Didn't want to return to pretending that his life was going to stay the same. He went in anyway – after all, it wasn't going to last much longer.

His time here was limited.

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The next morning, Roxas was called out of PE to see the principal, and accept his punishment for skipping school. He felt like an idiot. He was way too old to be intimidated by this process. It was like they were treating him like a naughty child. The whole thing was tiresome and unnecessary.

He sat impatiently throughout the serious, stern lecture, endured, "bright young man," and "model student" and, "shocked and disappointed". It was as though all figures of authority had gathered and spent the hours he'd been missing writing speeches for each other using all the same damn clichés.

His nails were picking incessantly at the fabric covering the arm of the chair when the diatribe finally wound to a conclusion. "Well, Roxas? Do you understand everything I've said to you?"

It was spoken in English, wasn't it? "Yes, sir."

The man eyed him doubtfully. "Roxas, I feel like there's something going on with you, and it pains both me and your parents that, whatever it is, you're not finding a way to ask for help."

The blond bit back the impulse to snap something scathing. "There's really nothing," he said flatly. Then he sat forward in sudden interest. "There _is _something you could help me with, though."

The principal adopted a wary expression at the intentness of the boy. "What did you have in mind?" he asked cautiously.

"Axel," said Roxas firmly. "He's the new guy. He hasn't been at school this week, and I'm worried. I want to know where he lives. I want to check on him."

Comprehension lightened the man's features. "You were his mentor…" He frowned. "Roxas – "

"I _know _it's against school policy," he cut in, eyes squeezed shut in frustration. "But I'm worried about him."

"It's only been three days."

"A lot can happen in three days," Roxas snapped, eyes flashing open again.

The man thought about the request. "Is there any specific reason that you're so worried?"

Roxas hesitated. "I don't know for sure. He – refuses to talk about his family. But he was planning to be here Monday. I saw him just the night before, and he was fine. I just – I want to make sure he's okay. It's not like I'll tell anyone else his address. And we're friends, so it's not like I wouldn't be welcome…"

"This is… an unusual request, considering what you're here for," he observed, one eye squinted slightly. "What's really going on, Roxas? Does Axel's absence have anything to do with yesterday's disappearing act?"

The blond faltered. "If I said yes, would you tell me? Since – since it obviously means a lot to me?"

"Hmm."

"I take my role as a mentor very seriously?" he attempted half-heartedly.

The principal sighed, leaning forward in his chair, laying his arms out across the desk. "The thing is, what are you going to do if I tell you?" Roxas lowered his gaze to his knees, the older man watching him closely. "I don't want you racing off again. It's just not on, Roxas."

"Well…" Roxas reasoned slowly, "what if I promise to wait until after school?"

"Aren't you supposed to be grounded?"

_Shit. _"Yeah, that's true," the blond admitted reluctantly. "But I can at least ask my mom for permission. If I knew where to find him, I wouldn't have to go rushing off all over the place. I could even just – call enquiries and get his number from them, if you don't want to give it to me."

The man thought for a moment. "What about I give you his number?" he suggested. "Then, when you get home, you can call him, and he can tell you his address himself."

Was it really such a big deal, handing out one lousy goddamn street name and house number? "But no one's answering his phone," Roxas argued, trying to keep his irritation in check. "Miss Charon told me. So isn't it more logical for me to just go straight there?"

The principal frowned, sat back. "So, this really is about Axel. You leaving school yesterday, all of it was to find that boy?"

"I… I just have a feeling," said Roxas softly, fingers tangling together on his lap. "I really am worried, and there's no way for anyone to get in touch with him, or figure out where he might be… It's getting to me."

"I see…" He glanced over to the window, pensively. "I have to admit, it's a little unusual that we haven't been informed of anything to do with Axel, and I'm finding it more concerning that no one is picking up at his residence, in light of your own fears…"

"I – I could go see him," Roxas said, eagerness rising. "Honestly, that's all any of this was about. If I could just know that he's okay, or even that he's sick with the flu, everything would go back to normal."

Ah, and Roxas had spoken the magic word. Normal. These people, this town, thrived on the known. The familiar. The largest portion of everyone's distress over Roxas' behaviour was based on how out-of-character it was for him to be so inconsiderate. All he had to do was dangle this bait in front of the principal's nose, and watch him rapidly weaken.

"You promise you'll wait until after school?" the man asked uncertainly. "And that you'll get your parents' permission before leaving the house?"

"D-definitely! I don't want to make trouble, sir!"

He folded his hands together, and surrendered. Somehow, in the course of the discussion, they had both managed to forget that Roxas was here to be yelled at. "Very well. Let Miss Charon know that I've approved it, and you'll get your address. But Roxas – don't let me down, please."

Roxas had no intention of letting him down – not yet, anyway. He wasn't going to get away with another day off school. After school, however, was a completely different story. Now, all he had to do was wait.

-------

Axel's house was, for lack of a better word, quite cute. It was pretty small – he couldn't imagine more than three people comfortably living there. Maybe it was just Axel, his sister, and a single parent. That would make sense, in a way – his 'deadlines' might have been to do with taking care of his sister, or helping out or something. It was definitely a well-kept house; not a blade of grass out of place, perfect paint job. It was like a summer cottage in suburbia.

Standing on the sidewalk in front of the little gate, Roxas shifted nervously. He had come straight from school after the final bell, had run the whole way. He'd known the street as soon as the secretary told him. Axel was right about one thing at least; they were only four blocks apart.

He scraped one wrist across his forehead, wiping away the sweat, stomach fluttering. "Axel," he whispered to himself, "you better be here." He unlatched the gate, stepped through, pulled it shut behind him and started down the path. "You better be okay, too." He mounted the two steps up to the creaking porch and positioned himself in front of the door. He raised his knuckles and knocked firmly, lips pressing thin. The fluttering became a lurching burn, heart suddenly pounding. His nails found his palms. _Come on, Axel… come on. _

He heard footsteps from within, muscles stiffening, breath sucking in through his nose, to be held in his chest, face prickling with anxious heat. The door was unlocked and pulled open, a curious, elderly face appearing at the gap. "Yes?"

Roxas stammered, "Oh, uh, hi, um – I'm here for Axel. To see if he's okay?" He forced a smile belatedly in place, at which the woman blinked.

"I'm sorry, dear, but I think you've got the wrong house."

The smile froze, eyebrows dropping slightly. "This was the address I was given, ma'am. It was in the school's database. I just want to know why Axel hasn't been coming to class the last couple days. If you could just let me speak to him – "

"No one by that name lives here," the old lady insisted. "I'm sorry, dear, but there's no schoolchildren living at this address."

"But this is the place," Roxas snapped, losing his temper. "This is where they sent me. He's not a child, he's a high-schooler. Why won't you let me see him?"

"Oh, my." She backed away from his anger, started to close the door. "I'll have to ask you to leave…"

"My name is Roxas. Roxas! Just tell him I'm here, I just want to make sure he's alright – please!" He jammed a foot over the threshold, halting the door. He slammed his palm against the wood, demanded, "Why are you being this way? He's your grandson or whatever, isn't he? Don't you care if he goes to school or not? Don't you care that people are _worrying?"_

"Oh – oh – Vernon! Vernon, come quickly!" Her fearful, faded eyes met his glittering blue ones as she appealed, "Please, leave us alone, we don't have your friend here – you're mistaken!"

"I'm _not! _I checked six times before knocking!"

"Then the _school _is wrong – please, _leave!" _

"Louise – what's going on?" A grey, grizzled man appeared, obviously the woman's husband, scowling at her distress. His eyes fell on Roxas. "You – I know you. You work at the toy store. What are you doing here? What do you want?"

Roxas screwed up his fists. "I just – want – _Axel!"_

"What? What the hell's an axel? You mean like on a wheel?"

Bewildered, he looked at each of them. "No, _not _like a wheel. Like the _person._ Tall, red hair, for _Christ's sake, _he _lives _here!"

The man's face darkened, he pushed in front of his wife, blocking the doorway. "Now, listen here, boy, my wife and I bought this house when I retired five years ago, and we've never had anyone to stay with us in all that time. Whoever this red haired kid is you're looking for, he doesn't live here. Now – you're scaring my wife, you're pissing me off – how about you leave?"

"But – "

"Why would we lie?" he snapped. "If there was someone by that name living here, by hell, I'd _give_ him to you, but there's _not, _so you need to get off my porch before I call the police!"

Stricken, Roxas lapsed into silence. He stared at them for a minute longer, perplexed, mouth opening then closing again with a snap. These people – they didn't…

Axel didn't live here.

The school must've got it wrong or something. That had to be it. It was the number they'd given him, the street – just… he wasn't here.

"I – I'm sorry," he said numbly. "Sorry." He turned sharply and leapt down the stairs, running to the gate, not bothering to unlatch it, just swinging over one leg and then the next, pausing on the pavement to give one last baffled look at the letterbox. He broke into a run, bag bouncing against his back. He didn't stop until he reached the mansion on the edge of town.

-------

Roxas pushed through the great door cautiously, eyes flicking around the enormous, broken-down foyer. The hinges groaned loudly, making him jump. He was sweating, out of breath, confused, and needed a familiar, friendly face to help him wade through the mire that had developed in place of his brain. He took a few echoing steps in. "Naminé? Hello?" He pushed the heavy door shut again, felt the click of the latch travel straight to his chest, erupting in a cloud of nerves.

The seventh wonder of Twilight Town. Here he was, alone in it. So, where were the ghosts?

"Roxas?" A curious Naminé appeared from the top landing, grasping the banister rail to peer down. Her face broke into a smile. "It _is _you! I _thought _I heard your voice!"

"Uh, yeah…" He watched as she hurried along to the staircase, dancing down to meet him. "I figured I'd just come say hi."

"I wasn't expecting you so soon," she said happily. She brushed the hair from her eyes, tucking it behind her ears as she crossed the broad marble floor to greet him. "This is wonderful!" She stopped in front of him, beaming. Today, she wore white cotton pants and a white tank top, making her look as pale as ever. He wondered where someone picked up a fixation like that, and then managed to live in such a grey, dusty place.

He smiled weakly in return. "Heh, yeah."

Her expression fell into a concerned frown, head perking to the side. "Or maybe, less wonderful? What's wrong, Roxas? You look flushed."

"Oh." He glanced upward, wiping at his forehead. "No, that's just because I ran here. I – I needed somewhere to come and just…"

She seemed to understand, nodded gently. "It's okay. I'm glad you came. Do you want to come upstairs and see my pictures?"

Roxas' smile became warmer, tinged with relief. "I'd like that. Thanks."

She turned and led the way, Roxas following slowly, gaze roaming. Once upon a time, this place must have been majestic. He could still see the potential, despite the cracked windows, splintered walls, ruined furniture. "I can see why this is a good place to stay," he murmured. "There's still so much here."

"Oh, wait until you see my room," Naminé replied, flashing him a bright glance. "It's amazing how well it's stayed preserved. It's really not dangerous at all here. It's a pity they shut it down so completely, it would make a beautiful hotel."

Roxas snorted wryly. "Sure, but that would mean accepting more outsiders. People come to Twilight Town about as frequently as they leave, don't you remember?"

She nodded, shrugged as they reached the second floor and turned the corner. "I know. But if they built something like this up enough, it would be easy enough to attract tourists."

Roxas shook his head hopelessly. "It'd never happen, Nam. They don't care enough about the outside world to try."

"That's true," she agreed softly. She halted in front of the last door along the corridor, smiled up at him. "I think you'll see why this one's my favourite." She opened it, stepping through, holding the door open for Roxas to pass. He entered the room with a gaping mouth. Everything was white – white walls, white ceiling, white curtains – even white furniture. A long table of shining marble, ivory chairs. "Hey, Naminé, ever consider you might be related to the town founders?" he asked, awed. She giggled.

"I must admit, it crossed my mind, too, when I saw this place." She closed the door, walked past him, gesturing grandly with an arm. "Take a seat, Roxas!" He shuffled over to the head of the table, unslinging his backpack and setting it carefully down, pulling out the tall-backed chair and seating himself. He propped his elbows on the surface, capturing his chin in his hands, and gazed about with wide-eyes. For the first time, he noticed the numerous papers adorning the walls, all of them images of Naminé's creation. Almost as soon as he'd sat, he was bouncing up again, gasping, _"Wow, _Naminé!" He approached the nearest wall, surveying the offerings that had been pinned up. She sat at the opposite end of the table, smiling.

"That sounds like a compliment," she said lightly. He nodded, eyes greedily consuming all they could.

"You visited all these places?"

She nodded, crossing her legs, folding her forearms neatly in front of her. "It was wonderful," she stated dreamily. "I adored it. There's nothing like travelling around, seeing the world, seeing reality for the first time…"

"The colours…" Roxas' fingertips hovered over one, hesitant to touch, wanting to run them up and down the page just to get closer to it. "You make it look so real." He glanced over his shoulder, shaking his head. "If I'd known art could be like this, I'd have taken it up years ago… It's like creating a whole other _world…" _

"You just wait until you see the real thing," she smiled. "My little hobby there hardly does it justice. I try to capture what I can, but nothing beats being there."

"I'll say," he agreed fervently. "Anything's got to be better than this place…"

She shrugged, looked over at the gossamer curtains covering the outside view. "I don't know, Roxas – it's still a nice place. Maybe it's a bit stifling, but don't wish it away just yet."

"That's easy for you to say," he complained, moving on to the next image. "You've had the chance to get away. For me, it's still just as much of a trap as it was for you before you left." He frowned, hands behind his back, twisting around to ask, "What made you come back, anyway? It's not like you're visiting family… Or are you?"

"I've seen them," she admitted. "But I guess it's not like I imagined it to be. I've been…" She sighed. "…gone for a while, now. Still, it's a little like memory lane, you know? I'd hate to come back forever, but it's nice, every now and then, to just breathe the air of home again…"

"I guess I can understand," Roxas said doubtfully. "How long are you here for?"

"A few days longer, maybe. It really depends."

"Hm?" He wandered a bit further, eyes taking in a new, ice-covered vista, frozen on paper. "On what?"

Casually, she replied, "On who comes with me."

He hesitated, turned to her dubiously. "…What?"

She climbed slowly to her feet, smiling softly. "You know, Roxas, you really don't have any obligation to stay. I can see how anxious you are to escape – so why don't you just come with me?" She came to stand by him, in front of the obscured window. "It wouldn't be right away; you'll have a few days to sort out your things and say good-bye. But why hang on, when it's so obvious that it's choking you?"

His expression became shuttered. "You're the second person in two weeks trying to get me to leave Twilight Town. You even both own the same watch. What's going on, Naminé?"

She affected confusion. "Roxas, nothing's 'going on'. I'm sorry if the coincidence disturbs you, but that's really all it is. It's not like there's a conspiracy going on to get you out of Twilight Town." She touched his shoulder earnestly. "All I want is to help you out of this rut."

He slapped her away, backing off sharply. "Nam, what the fuck? Why did you say that?" He paused, then glared. "Where's Axel?"

"Pardon?" Her pretty face was puzzled.

"Axel!" Roxas was breathing hard, eyes narrowed, studying her intensely. "You know, tall guy, red spiky hair – don't tell me you don't know him, Naminé, because obviously – obviously you guys have been comparing notes or something, or – " A dreadful thought occurred to him, make his blood freeze and his stomach curdle. "Is this… some kind of con?" he asked, traces of horror entering his tone. "Is that it? You and Axel met someplace and decided this would be a good way to – what? Get some money out of me? Naminé, _what is going on?"_

"Roxas, you're really being ridiculous," she said sternly. "I don't want to hurt you at _all. _That's a terrible thing to say."

"You come back out of the blue," Roxas argued, heart hammering, "the day after Axel, who _also _came out of the blue, disappears. Both of you own those weird watches, both of you are trying to convince me to get the heck out of Twilight Town – you – you're just _playing _on my _emotions _or something. What was it that made you pick me?" He was growing tearful. "Did you just know I was like you, or did the two of you stake me out, follow me home? _Oh, my God!" _His hands flew to his face, nails digging in, distraught. "Oh, my God, _that's how Axel knew where I lived!" _

"Roxas!" she yelled. "Enough! You're out of your mind!"

"_No!" _he snarled. His hands dropped as he backed sharply away. He glared hatefully. _"You _are, Naminé. The both of you are fucking _nuts _if you ever thought this was going to work." Pain tore through his heart, shoving him violently back towards the edge of tears. "Damn it," he said, tremulously. "I really liked Axel. _Really. _And I thought – I thought you were my friend…"

"Roxas, please," Naminé begged, moving quickly around the table, trying to head him off. "You're wrong, you're completely wrong, you're jumping to conclusions, I don't even _know _Axel!"

"_There's too – many – coincidences, Nam!" _He jerked out of range, dodged around her, the tears spilling down his cheeks. He dashed them away with his palm, humiliated. "Too many. I don't believe you. And now, I'll never leave…" He stopped at the door, turned back to her. "I can never leave now," he repeated brokenly. "Because I'll always be afraid of the people like _you _who are out there. You – and _Axel." _

He fled, ignoring her pleas and cries, ignoring as she gave chase. She followed him to the large gates, called after him desperately, half-weeping, voice shaking. _"Roxas, please, you've got to listen to me!" _

He sprinted into the woods, left her behind. He couldn't bare to listen to her voice, hear her lies spill from that pretty little mouth, a mouth which probably belonged to Axel, who was probably completely straight and washed his lips every time they'd had to touch any part of Roxas' face – _oh, God. _

Roxas pulled to an abrupt halt, vomiting into the bushes, doubled-over and choking. He was shivering. He'd never felt so violated, so used, in all his life.

It was all a lie.

And the past three days? All that time he'd spent fearing for the redhead? God, where had he _been? _Was he in another part of the mansion, sleeping the day away, doing his best to forget his involvement with one lost eighteen-year-old blond boy in the smothering town of Twilight?

The address the school had given him – it was false. Axel, or maybe Naminé posing over the phone as his mother, had told them the address of some elderly couple the golden-haired girl probably remembered from her time here.

All those pictures – _"These are really great, Naminé. You should sell them."_

"_I do, sometimes, but I really just do it because I love to, not to make a living."_

That's because it's _hard _to make a living off of art, no matter _how _good you are.

That first day at the mansion: _"I don't know if I should leave yet. I really want to see him."_

"_Do you mean – Axel?" _

"_What? You know Axel?"_

"_No, but it was the name you yelled out earlier… I figured, since you seemed upset at the thought of not seeing whoever you wanted to meet, it must be that boy."_

She knew Axel, right from the start. They were in on this together. They were… just… trying to get him to leave with them. No doubt the next step would have been convincing him to take the money from his parents' dresser drawer, his mom's purse, his dad's wallet, all in the interest of surviving out in the big, wild world.

"_Aww, is Roxie gonna miss me when I'm gone?"_

"_The way you say it makes it sound like it's going to be soon…"_

"_Well, not too soon. I just don't plan on staying forever."_

"_You know…? Me either…"_

"_I'm glad to hear you say that, Rox. Who knows, maybe we could be road-buddies when we leave…?"_

Roxas let out a sob. The betrayal was too much. He was sick again, onto the grass this time. Too many emotions, too much fury, too much hurt. The memories stung inside his head, hideous things he wished he could scrape away, words which now burned his cheeks to have believed, to have said. Never before had he realised just how cruel people could be. Boring was nothing compared to reality.

Reality was cold, wicked knife, and it was carving him up inside.

All he wanted now was to go home, wrap himself up in bed, and never have to face the world again. He was done with it; done with wanting out. If he could find somewhere to keep him forever, where he didn't have to move, or breathe, or think – then he'd be happy. Then, he'd be content.

He staggered along, vision blurred, clutching his backpack to his chest. He didn't want to let it go, was scared to, because it was his link to Twilight Town. He'd never dream of other places again.

Somehow, he managed to find his way back to the hole in the tram common wall. With his drunken disorientation, it was a wonder he'd made out of the woods at all. He took a few minutes to collect himself, leaning against the wall, eyes squeezed shut, taking deep, slow breaths. He didn't want to walk through town looking like a mess; people would ask questions. All he wanted was to be left alone.

When he was certain he'd be able to walk the rest of the way without further embarrassing himself, he slowly shuffled through, back into town, and started for home.

Partway through the Sandlot, he became distantly aware of a commotion of some sort. He lifted his head, sniffing sharply, to see a short boy with brown hair accosting as many different people as he could, on their way to various places – home, probably; it was about that time of day. The boy moved with a frantic energy, face twisted earnestly, voice loud and insistent. Roxas closed his eyes for a moment, lowering his head, swerving slightly to keep out of the brunet's path in the hope that he would be allowed to pass.

No such luck.

With uncanny speed, the kid managed to dodge the few weary commuters and come to a halt in front of Roxas. "Hey, guy, can I ask you a question?" he demanded breathlessly.

"No," Roxas growled, bag clutching closer. "Get out of my way, outsider."

The brunet brightened. "Hey, you can tell just by looking at me? That's awesome, that's _just _what I need." He grabbed Roxas' shoulder as the blond tried to push past. Roxas ripped back, snarling.

"Stay the fuck away from me, I'm not telling you _anything. _Why don't you go back to where you belong?"

The boy's face fell, eyebrows knitting together in dismay. "There's no need to be like that – I just wanted – "

"What's going on here?" Both boys turned to see Seifer and his gang approach, a scowl upon the tall blond's face. "Roxas? Is this kid bothering you?"

Never before would Roxas have thought he could be so grateful for Seifer's xenophobia. "I'm trying to get home. He won't let me pass."

"Hey, wait," the brunet protested, blue eyes flying wide with panic. "That's not true, I just wanted to ask if you'd seen – _oof!" _Seifer had darted in and buried his fist into the kid's stomach. Roxas winced as he doubled over, gasping for breath, held up only because Seifer hadn't let go, moving to grip the boy's shirt and shake him roughly.

"Didn't you hear, outsider? Roxas wants to go home, so leave him the _fuck _alone!" He glanced up to the blond, nodded once, curtly. "On your way, loser. I've got this kid covered."

Roxas eyed the tableau hesitantly, feeling like maybe it wasn't right to let some kid get the snot beaten out of him just for getting in the way… But he'd refused to let Roxas leave. And he was an _outsider. _He was… just one of them. The shorter blond nodded, skirting past, reluctantly continuing on.

"_Wait," _the brunet wheezed, as Fuu and Rai shifted around to get a good position in the proceedings, fists raised and ready. "Wait – _Roxas? Roxas?" _Roxas kept walking, stonily ignoring the kid. "Roxas, please," he called desperately. _"Do you know where Axel is?" _

Roxas froze, whipped around before his brain could tell him to fuck the kid off and keep moving. He was tripping over himself hurrying back, a hand held out as he cried, _"Wait!" _

Seifer straightened, glaring impatiently. "What now, chicken-wuss? Can't you see I'm busy cleaning trash off the streets?"

Roxas said, "Just hang the fuck _on, _Seifer." He bent at the knees, meeting the kid's imploring gaze, a hard frown in place. "What about Axel? You know where he is?"

"No, that's why I asked _you," _the kid said anxiously. "My name is Sora, I'm a friend of him and his sister – Kairi sent me here to find him, because he's disappeared. You're his friend, though, right? I've heard him talk about you!"

Roxas straightened coldly. "Oh? And did he tell you how fucking easy I am to manipulate? Did he tell you all his plans to screw me over and leave me in the dust?"

The kid's eyes widened. "Huh? What? Axel?"

"Yeah. Axel. Relax, Sora. I know all about his plans for me. He could be dead right now for all I care."

Seifer let out an appreciative laugh. "That sounds good to me; who knew you were such a fire-brand, Roxas?"

"This is what happens when I get messed with," he responded dully. "This is how I go when someone rips out my eyes and heart and stomps on them." He flicked his eyes down the kid's wide gaze. "If you do happen to find him, tell him from me that he's an asshole, and I hope he chokes on every lie he ever told."

He turned, gave Seifer a quick, casual nod, and walked away.

"But – he really _likes _you…" the kid said in a small voice. Whatever else he might have had to say was cut off by Seifer's fists.

As Roxas left the Sandlot, he heard someone yell, _"Sora! Get off him, you bastards!" _

Seemed like someone had come to the kid's rescue. Roxas didn't really care, one way or another. It wasn't like he knew the brunet. So – Axel's sister was apparently looking for him. That, at least, had been a small grain of truth in amongst the deeper levels of bullshit. He wished all these outsiders would just find each other, clump together, and cluster-fuck off for the rest of eternity.

Roxas managed to get home before his mother returned from work, but he knew, from the flashing light on the answering machine, that she had probably called and drawn her own conclusions when he didn't answer. So what? She could think what she wanted; it wasn't like it was going to happen again. This was it, he was done, finito. Roxas was back to being a good only son. He'd finish his homework, find a girl to wrestle tongues with and eventually fuck until her stomach bloated with parasite, and live a comfortable little Twilight Town life, within the crushing tentacles of love belonging to all those around him.

He stomped up to his room without bothering to listen to his mother's disembodied reprimand, slammed the door of his room shut despite the fact there was no one to hear it, and tossed his books carelessly into the corner of the room. For a long minute, he stood there, in the middle of the carpet, hands hanging loosely by his sides. His mind struggled to find some even ground after all the drama and hysteria of the past few days – hell, the last two weeks, almost. He tried to come to terms with the death of his dreams, the beginning of his death.

Something caught his eye, something bright, bold, and out of place. He frowned, shifting over to the bed, gaze falling on the yellow, cheap plastic circle in the middle of his pillow.

"What…?" He picked it up. It was a yo-yo. It was Axel's yo-yo. His heart stopped in his chest, gave a sickening thud, then burst into overdrive. For the second time, he was in tears. Was this some kind of good-bye gift? Was it a final slap in the face for the blond?

"_I'll cherish it always."_

"You _fucking _ass," he spat. His fingers tightened around the junky toy, wishing he could split it with the force of his newborn hatred, have the shards pierce his skin. Violent symbolism felt like a good thing right now.

He took to it with his nails, forcing them into the gap spanning the toy's circumference, and pried the two plastic discs apart with a loud snap. A piece of paper fluttered to the bed, released from its scrunched up state within the yo-yo. Roxas dropped the broken yellow plastic and hesitantly plucked the paper up, unfolding it, smoothing it between his fingers to read:

_Roxie. Tonight's the night. This is the last time we can see each other in TT – meet me at the clock tower, midnight. I can explain everything. Love, Axel._

Roxas' eyes lost their focus, slipping past the paper. "Love…?" he muttered.

Love nothing. It was just another lie. Naminé had told him the jig was up, and – but Roxas had only just figured out the scam. So… Axel wouldn't know yet. Maybe by midnight he would, but when he left the note, he couldn't have…

Roxas would go. He'd go, and listen to the lies one last time. All he had to do was figure out what to take with him – which household item would cause the most amount of blunt trauma, for when Roxas beat him to a bloody pulp.

Then he could return here, and resign himself to this life with a small amount of satisfaction, if nothing else. Closure… would be nice.


	9. Chapter 9

**A/N: **Okay, I have no idea how this reunion became the entire chapter… I had about two more events scheduled for this one, and they just got drowned out by explanation, more explanation, and character hissy fits. Still, despite the one-track focus of this one, I like it. I had to keep realigning my thoughts to keep everything straight, but I feel that it turned out satisfactorily. Also - 100 reviews! I am very happy right now. You guys are the best!

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CHAPTER NINE

Keyblades. Keyblades were good.

It was eleven-thirty, and Roxas' parents were asleep. The good thing about their tiring days was that they were always in bed by ten, and both of them slept like rocks. Roxas was fully dressed in jeans, a white t-shirt and a black zip-up sweater. Outside, it was raining. Clouds had developed, as if pulled by the magnetic force of Roxas' burning misery, and the world had turned to water. It drummed against the tiles of the roof, the noise hissing in through the open window.

He moved quickly, efficiently, emotionlessly, pulling on shoes over thick socks. He stood, holding Axel's note in his hand, looking at it one last time before tucking it into his pocket with a sense of finality.

His eyes flicked to the clock, making certain he wasn't running late – that wouldn't do at all. No. He wouldn't want Axel wondering where he was…

_Keyblades._

Roxas carefully exited his room, padding quietly down the hall, down the stairs, into the kitchen. He unlocked the door to the garage and slipped through. The air was cold and dry, the noise from above louder than ever. He crept cautiously past the cars, to the back of the room where a series of shelves had been bolted to the wall. A lifetime of detritus was packed along every spare inch of storage space. Somewhere in amongst all the junk lay two oversized keys. His dad had made them in high school, the first in his junior year, the second in his senior. He had earned the highest grade in his metalwork class, and had even presented one of them, which he named Oathkeeper, to Roxas' mom on their wedding day.

They weren't exactly made with combat in mind – his dad just really liked keys, collected them, kept them in a box – but in a pinch, they'd work. Hell, they could at least bludgeon.

As he dug through the mess, seeking them out, Roxas slowed at one point. Was this what he wanted to do? Did he want to really _hurt _Axel?

His rage answered him: yes. Perhaps he wouldn't end up using them, but he would take the keys with him, and if nothing else, give the redhead enough of a fright to teach him to _never _fuck with Roxas again. He wanted to inflict _something. _His dreams had all been shattered by that one slender, white hand. The least Roxas could do was mangle it up a little.

He found them, fingers touching cold metal. Drawing them out, careful not to make any undue noise, they clanged together lightly, letting out a dull ring. Roxas held them up, muscles hardening with the weight. Get enough swing behind them, and they could do real damage.

Again, just for a moment, something flashed in his conscience, shivering weakly.

It was obliterated.

Roxas straightened, resting a keyblade on each shoulder, their ornate designs making them beautiful to behold even after all these years. The teeth were the cause for the name his father had given, fashioned with an edge. A few times, growing up, Roxas had played with them. There were chips in the paint from when he was ten, and, using both arms to lift one, managed to cut down a small tree.

He shifted back into the kitchen, let the door swing shut and lock automatically, briefly blocking out the hammering against the roof. He passed through the house, and exited into the street.

For a long minute, he stood staring at the endless sheet of drops shooting through the illumination of the streetlight, silver needles bulleting to earth, smashing upon impact, dying violently and becoming part of a whole.

Axel was out here, in this. He would be waiting.

Roxas left the shelter of the overhang, wet in an instant, keyblades hanging an inch off the ground. Eyes blinked slowly through the fluid streaming down from his hair, wetting his clothing through and through, slicking everything extraneous against the curves of his body. His steps were even and steady, through puddles, across mud, his thoughts already casting ahead, hovering at the clock tower, waiting for his flesh to catch up.

He wasn't sure at which point the rain became tears, but eventually he became aware of the warmth. Axel's note was falling apart in his pocket.

_Love, Axel._

He headed uptown, renewing his grip on the keyblades. The station appeared, dark and empty, the tower above it stretching high. Roxas halted, head tilting back, rain abating slightly, enough for him to wipe his vision clear, push the soggy locks of blond away.

Again, irritatingly, he faltered. Why couldn't he just go home? Why couldn't he consign this night to the ages, forget it as the part of his life which was almost the biggest mistake he'd ever made? The voices in Roxas' head didn't want to hurt the redhead. He had hurt the blond, hurt him terribly – he and Naminé had irrevocably broken some vital part of the teen, more than just his trust – but that didn't mean… he didn't want to stoop… it didn't need to be _like _this…

The coldness in his heart told the voices otherwise, muffled them, smothered them under the humiliating thought of Axel with Naminé all this time, bending Roxas to his will in such a sickeningly short amount of time. That took talent, which Roxas' cold heart intended to repay.

He took the steps steadily, one after another, not rushing, not taking his time, just trudging up, and up, and up, one foot and the next, in a tight, square spiral. His muscles tightened, hands adjusting slightly on the handles of the keyblades, drawing them up higher, the storm within growing darker the closer he got to the top.

As he reached the doorway, he slowed, drawing in a careful breath, chin tucking down, eyes fixing instantly on the black-clad figure standing at the edge of the wall, long coat, hood pulled up obscuring the wild hair, elbows angled out as the hands rested in coat-pockets, undeniably Axel in every inch of his posture. His position was pensive, watching the rain develop and peter from this eyrie in the sky. Roxas' shoe scraped as he stepped forward, alerting the redhead. He turned, and for the first time in nearly four days, Roxas was graced with those green eyes, slivers of red framing the narrow, handsome face. The lips softened and smiled, a trembling expression. He took a step toward the blond. "So, you came, then."

Roxas snapped.

He lunged forward, keyblades swinging high, ready to bring down on the cruel man's shoulder, a pained grunt the loudest sort of scream he could manage as he tried to injure the one person who had caused him more destruction than he had ever known could exist.

He swiped downward, teeth clenched, lips drawn back in a silent snarl, everything that ever cared for the redhead focused on causing harm, causing _damage. _

Axel moved fast, a blur as he darted, Roxas missing but following, crossing his arms over his body, muscles pulling and stretching insanely, hard as rock beneath his skin, two backhand slashes, simultaneous, not even aiming this time except to hurt, to _hurt – _with a heavy crash of metal on metal, the keyblades were stopped, caught jarringly, the jolt reverberating deep into his nerve endings, numbing his fingers, but he maintained his grip.

For a moment, both boys gasped for breath, eyes locking, before Roxas glanced down at the resistance – twin discs, wildly spiked, the size of car tires, deadly sharp, heavy-looking, dangerous, red and black, just like Axel.

"What're those?" the blond demanded angrily.

Axel's eyes widened, he snarled, "What the fuck're _those?" _

"Let me show you more intimately." Roxas leapt back, dragging the keyblades free with a clatter and clang. "I see you came prepared," he sneered. "It wasn't enough to hurt me inside? Had to finish the goddamn fucking _job?" _He drew the keyblades up, drove them forward in a stabbing motion hard enough to knock Axel from the tower, fury and rage the dictators of this fight, howling for blood, slavering for revenge.

The redhead had other ideas. Swinging the discs, he caught the twin blades in between the sturdy bars and yanked back, using Roxas' momentum against him. With an enraged cry, Roxas stumbled, refusing to release the handles, dragged to his knees. He tugged back sharply, wrestling stubbornly to free them. He barked, _"Let go!" _

"What're you _doing, _Roxas?" Axel glared down at him in disbelief. Roxas' eyes tore upward, narrow, incensed, lost.

"You brought this on yourself," he stated, voice shaking desperately. Then he lifted his legs and kicked at Axel's exposed knees, making the redhead howl in pain, grip weakening, allowing the blond to rip backward, wrenching his weapons away, Axel only just managing to keep hold of his own. Roxas scrambled to his feet in a second, sweating heavily despite the chill in the air, the icy rain still falling.

"You _fucking _brought this on yourself, so don't try and blame _me." _He cut sideways with one, stabbing deep with the other, the movements sloppy and awkward, but vicious. Axel caught them easily, knocked the blades aside, breathing hard, expression torn and bewildered.

"Roxas, you're not making sense!" he cried anxiously. "What did I do? What are you gonna do, kill me?"

"_I don't know!" _he screamed, slashing wildly. Axel blocked both with one disc, used the other to smash down on the metal right above the blond's knuckles, stunning the hands, sweeping forward with one ankle to trip Roxas. In one deft motion, he hooked the teeth of each key back into the discs and tore them from the shorter boy's hands, throwing all weapons in a low arc to the ground a few feet away, where they clashed and jangled, forming a messy heap behind him.

Panting, fists bunched, wanting to punch the shuddering pile of human on the ground at his feet until he started talking, Axel demanded, _"What the hell, Roxas?" _

Roxas, fire gone, everything important just _gone,_ drew his knees up into his chest, and continued to shake. He wasn't rage, he wasn't fury – he was simply a boy again, miserable and in pain. He was drained, exhausted, he should have been in bed, but instead he was in the rain with someone who hated him. His hands covered his face, fingers spread wide to form a cage, clutching hard as he quivered and gasped.

Axel stared, uncomprehending. His hood had fallen back during the brief battle, releasing his spikes to the rain, steadily becoming heavier, drooping down towards his back. Softly, he asked, "Roxas, what were you _doing? _Why'd you try and hurt me?"

The blond said nothing. Worried, Axel stepped forward, knelt down, touching the teen's shoulder. Roxas came to life, sat up with a snap, pushing backward sharply, repulsed.

"Don't! Don't you _dare!" _

Axel snatched his hand back, startled. His eyebrows drew together. "Roxie…"

"Don't call me that," came the mumble, the blond burying his face into his knees. "Just do what you came to do, and leave me alone. I'm done now."

A frantic feeling stealing over him, finding it more difficult to breathe here in frightened repose than when he had been fighting for his safety, he begged, "Roxas, I don't get it, where's this coming from? I left you that note, hoping you'd come tonight – don't you want to know where I've been, why I haven't been to see you?"

"_I don't care!" _Roxas burst out, tearing his face back up into the cold. "I know about you and Naminé, I know this was all some giant trick to you, I came here to get some sort of closure, but all I did was – was make a big fucking mess of it. I don't even _care _anymore, Axel. Do whatever the _fuck _you want to me, I won't even try and _stop _you."

The redhead lunged forward, black-gloved hands seizing the sides of Roxas' face, drawing him up to his lips, kissing him hard for a long moment, before the blond found his chest and shoved violently back, nearly sending him sprawling. Gasping, he screeched, "What the fuck was that?"

"You said you wouldn't stop me," Axel panted. He gave a little grin. "You need to be careful, making those sorts of sweeping statements around me – I often take things to heart."

"You don't have a heart," Roxas spat. Axel dimmed, water trailing rivers down his face. He sat back on his heels and studied the saturated, embittered blond.

"I don't get it, Roxie. I don't know what I've done." His voice was quiet, almost defeated. A trace of desperation entered as he begged, "What is it? Please, just tell me what I did wrong, and I'll try and fix it."

Roxas drew in a sharp breath, roared, _"Naminé! _I know about _Naminé!" _He shuddered, gave a cracked, sad half-smile devoid of hope. "No need to pretend anymore, Axel. You can go – go wipe your mouth now. After all, you just kissed me. Kissed a guy you don't even like, never even wanted – so go ahead. I won't blame you."

Axel stared, horrified. "Roxas… I – don't…"

"I know, Axel," he said quietly, tipping his chin to one side, eyelashes low. "Just leave me alone. I have a life to go live."

The rain pattered down around them, pooling and draining back through the door, to fall down between the cracks in the stairs. Axel settled down onto his knees, ignoring the dampness, crawling closer to Roxas, whose face had returned to its hiding place in his thighs. The blond heard him coming, was too tired to fight anymore. Whatever would happen would happen, and Roxas just wanted this whole night to be over. Tomorrow… was a fresh start. Tomorrow, Axel would be gone, and he could go back to pretending this was all he ever wanted.

"Roxas." His voice was low, devoid of humour, softly raw. "I don't want to leave you. I'm not going to."

"Why?" Roxas asked hopelessly, muffled by his legs. "I know your secrets now. I know about Naminé."

Axel took hold of his shoulders, sparking with frustration, fingers digging in, shook him slightly when he didn't lift his head. "Okay, so you know about her – I don't see how, but oh, well – I still don't get why this means you're virtually trying to _kill_ me, Rox."

This drew the blond out again, eyes wide, lips twisting down, looking ill. "Are you serious? You're not even trying to deny it?"

The green eyes narrowed suspiciously. "Deny _what, _Roxas? What exactly do you know?"

Roxas let out a low scream of anger, surging from his subdued state and slapping the redhead away, reaching out to thrust at his shoulders, send him splashing back onto his elbows. _"You son-of-a-bitch. _I know _everything. _How dare you keep trying to pretend, when it's so fucking _obvious _I know the _truth!" _He started beating the redhead with his fists, every piece of yielding flesh he could reach in the few seconds before Axel grabbed and immobilised them, tugging him hard enough to fall into the strong arms, where he struggled and bit.

"_Fuck, _Roxas," Axel hissed, wrapping an arm around his neck to keep his snapping jaws away, twisting the blond's wrist behind his back sharply. "Roxas, I came here tonight for _you, _don't you get that? Damn it, _stop struggling! _I came here so we could _leave _together, you crazy fucking bitch, because tonight's the last night I can _be _here – I'm not even _meant _to fucking be here, I snuck the fuck _in. Will – you – stop – struggling!" _He released the wildcat that Roxas had become with a push, climbed quickly to his feet and out of range of the sudden kicking, the enraged sobs becoming more and more shrill. He gazed down in disbelief. "Roxas, what _happened _to you? What did Naminé _tell _you?"

"_She didn't need to tell me anything," _Roxas howled, lurching up to standing. "I figured it all out for myself, you fucking _con-artist."_

"Con – _con…? _Roxas, what the _fuck?"_

"You! And Naminé! And all _this!" _Roxas threw his arms wide, demanded, "What the hell did you even lure me here for? Huh? What's the final blow, Axel?"

The redhead snapped, "The final blow is me asking you to abandon your family and friends to come back to Hollow Bastion with me, right now, tonight." With Roxas effectively shut up, hysteria put on temporary hiatus, he continued, "You and your _fucking _conclusions, Roxie, they're gonna be the death of me, very nearly fucking _were _tonight! You keep saying me and Nam? Me and Nam? Like we're together or something? God damn it, Roxas, how much more do I have to display my feelings for you before you'll accept them? I'm always trying to touch you, I think you're fucking sexy, I think you're beautiful, I think you're a _good fucking person, _and I'm pretty fucking in _love _with you – there is _no _'me and Naminé'."

"You're _lying," _Roxas said miserably. "All you do is lie."

"I've _told _lies, Roxas, yes." Axel stepped close, tangled a handful of blond spikes and angled Roxas' head back roughly, forcing his eyes up, tears springing involuntarily at the pain in his scalp. "I wasn't allowed to tell you the truth. But the important thing is, how I feel, _is _truth."

"You _love _me?" Roxas attempted to sneer. Axel shook him hard by his hair, making him bite back a gasp.

"Yes," said the redhead firmly, jaw set. "I do. Roxas – I'm not supposed to be here right now. It's supposed to be Naminé who gets you out of here. I lost you because I fucked up, I ignored the rules, I didn't leave when I was meant to on Sunday, and so they haven't let me come _back." _His fingers loosened, travelling down to the blond's face, cupping it gently when Roxas didn't try to pull away. "There's a lot of things going on that you're not aware of. I'm sorry that whatever Naminé did or said led you to this, but honest to _God, _Roxie, I never wanted to hurt you." His soft eyes traversed Roxas' pale skin. "I want you to escape this place with me. We don't have a whole lot of time. Someone's going to realise I'm not where I said I'd be…" He lowered himself, so they could stare at each other, green intent, blue confused and wary. "I won't let you be attached to Naminé. I can't let that happen. If you stay tonight, she'll be your only ticket out of here. This is our only chance to do it _together_, Rox."

Roxas was in turmoil, a churning of emotions, hope, underlaid with the bubbling, tar-like river of anger which refused to believe simply because the redhead spoke so prettily. Roxas tugged out of his grip, eyes narrowed, pain and hurt in his gaze. "Everything you've ever told me is a lie."

"Damn it, are we talking in _circles?" _Axel demanded impatiently. "Please, Roxas, get over whatever hatred you've formed towards me the last three fucking _days _of my absence and just understand that whatever lies I've told you were completely necessary, and that I had no choice in the matter."

"There's always a choice," Roxas strangled out.

Axel nodded. "Sure there is. And _my _choices ended up with me not being allowed to see you anymore!"

"Axel – you…" Roxas was breathing quickly, not sure what to think anymore, the certainty of the betrayal being slowly pulled out from under him, leaving him to flounder. _But what about Naminé? What about the watches? _"How do you even know Naminé?" he challenged, desperate to cling to whatever knowledge he'd thought he had.

Axel dug his hands back into his pockets, dipped his head in acknowledgement. "Naminé is a friend of mine. We both live in Hollow Bastion, but she usually travels around."

"So you _are _together," Roxas accused, hysteria preparing to pitch back up.

"Actually, we're separate," Axel murmured. "She doesn't know I'm here."

Roxas faltered. "She – what? But…"

"Roxas – I was here to try and convince you to leave Twilight Town." Axel spoke earnestly, quietly, green eyes calm but intent. "I broke some rules by staying longer than I was meant to. They decided…" He laughed sharply. "They decided I was too attached to you emotionally, that I was being irresponsible." He fixed Roxas with a fond look. "They got the first part right, at any rate. But," he sighed, "they also decided I wasn't doing my job like I was meant to, and cut me off. They sent Naminé in my place, to finish what I started, minus the kissing and telling you how cute you are."

"Then… then that's why she…" Roxas' face was lowered, face creased in thought, a flutter of panic forming in his gut. "Why are you trying to get me to leave?"

"You don't belong here, Roxas." Axel reached out cautiously, took the blond's hands. They hung limply in his grasp, but that they weren't instantly snatched away was a good sign. "You belong in the real world. With me."

"That doesn't tell me anything," Roxas said, verging on anger, refusing to lift his face. "Why me? Who makes the rules? Who, aside from you, wants me out of here so bad?"

Axel was silent for a few moments, studying the blond between the falling drops, depressed and scared-looking, so uncertain. "Your Twilight Town isn't real, Roxas. It's part of a computer simulation. The real world is in Hollow Bastion… outside of this program."

Roxas lifted his head, features screwed up, squinting at the redhead. "…That's the biggest pile of shit I've ever heard you speak," he commented with disgust.

"And yet…" Axel shrugged. "I know you're angry at me, but I didn't do anything wrong. I've given you no reason not to trust me, Roxas."

The blond laughed bitterly. "No reason? One lie, two lies, a million lies, all with a promise that one day you'll let me know everything. Then, when the day comes, you just make up a story."

Axel's fingers tightened around his arms, making him wince slightly. There was something burning in the redhead's narrow, bright green eyes, crimson brows pulled low. "I'm not lying anymore," he insisted, trying to keep the anger at bay. "I'm telling you the truth, Roxas." He released the blond, backed away several paces, then turned his head sharply to look out at the dim town. He swept an arm out, gesturing at the spread. "Look at this place! It's completely isolated, no one _ever _leaves – not _ever." _He met Roxas' gaze again. "People don't just exist solely in their own town like this, Roxas – and what about college? No matter how many homebodies might live here, why doesn't anyone ever go to a college outside of Twilight Town? They all go to that dinky little community college!" He stalked back towards the blond. "You remember how I said that the few people who _do _come to Twilight Town rarely leave by themselves? It's because whenever someone new comes, it's to take one of _you _away, back to Hollow Bastion!" He tucked his fingers under Roxas' chin, lifted it once again to look down into those blue pools swimming with bewilderment and a slight amount of shock. "Now it's your turn, Roxie. Naminé left two years ago, right? Well, it was with a friend of mine. Maybe you remember her – Larxene, she was the age then that you are now. She knew Naminé before the Twilight Town program was set up, and was allowed to bring her out – when the time comes, we're allowed to take out someone we once knew." His expression became pleading. "I know you don't understand yet, but Roxas, I'm here for _you. _You're the one I chose, and you've been ready to go for such a long time now. But if we don't leave together tonight, you'll end up going with Naminé instead, and you'll be attached to her. When one of us takes back one of you, a connection forms between the two people – I don't want that for you and her. I want it for you and _me." _He stroked the sides of Roxas' face anxiously, brushing the wet hair away, smoothing a finger along one eyebrow. "I came back for you, even though I'm not allowed to be here anymore. They'll know I broke into the system, and they'll make sure I can't do it again after tonight – that's why this is our only chance."

Roxas drew in a deep breath, broke free, jerking back a step. "You can't be serious," he muttered. "This is all just part of your joke. Yours and Nam – "

"Will you shut up about her?" Axel glared for a moment, then let him go, stomping over to where the weapons lay forgotten. He bent, untangling his own from Roxas' keyblades, gave the blond's choice of weaponry a blank, puzzled look. Carrying them over, his discs under one arm, Roxas' keyblades under the other, he pushed the blond's weapons at him. Roxas took them quickly, shooting the redhead a cautious look. "Are we going to start fighting again?" he asked tightly.

"Fuck, Roxas, no. Not unless you start swinging those things around again."

"What are they?" Roxas couldn't quite contain his curiosity. Then he darkened. "More importantly, why did you bring them?"

"It wasn't going to slit your throat and throw you off the tower, if that's what you're thinking," the redhead spat. He gave the discs a twirl. "They're called chakrams. And now, Roxie, I'm giving you a choice. This little rooftop encounter has gone on long enough, as far as I'm concerned." He shrugged, taking several long strides back, opening up a path to the door. "I mean, I was fully prepared to waste a good thirty minutes making-out and possibly getting to third-base by taking advantage of your joy at seeing me again, but hey, things obviously don't work out in non-reality like they do in your head." He fixed Roxas with a steady look. "Now, it's up to you, Roxas. You choose what you want to believe, what you want to think or feel. I'm standing right here, and I swear to you that I love you." He sighed. "I've been watching you for almost a whole year, waiting for this day. I never figured it'd be playing out like this… Something you don't remember is that we were friends as kids. Before the war. And I – " He hesitated, suddenly looking unsure… vulnerable, almost. "I never forgot you, Rox. I've been waiting for the day when I could bring you back. Everything I've said tonight is the absolute truth. So – do you want to come with me?" He said it abruptly, sounding like a nervous teen asking out his crush on a first date, despite the heavy implications behind the request. His face was twisted slightly, expecting the worst. After everything he'd heard spill from the blond's mouth since the moment he'd appeared with dark intent at the top of the stairs, he was certain that he'd lost his chance. Roxas had obviously assumed some wild and desperate ideas about why Axel had vanished… and Naminé had somehow fucked up by letting him think those things…

Axel didn't have a hope in hell of being the one to attach to Roxas now.

The blond, meanwhile, on the other side of the doorway, was struggling violently with himself. The little voices were back with a vengeance, each of them screaming something different, confusing him almost to tears. _Stick to facts, Roxas. _

Fact one: Axel was _here. _He was right _here, _right in _front _of him, and he – he claimed to _love _him? Roxas didn't know if he loved Axel… it hadn't even been two weeks, how could he love him after only – _Facts. _Okay. Fact two: Axel… was leaving? Tonight? And – wanted Roxas to come, too. He wanted Roxas to leave Twilight Town in the middle of the night, without even saying good-bye to his family, without seeing his friends one last time… He wasn't sure if he was ready for this. Not in this hasty fashion. But if he _didn't… _he wouldn't be able to go with Axel at all. He'd go with Naminé… assuming that he believed Axel's story, that is.

He lifted his chin, gazed out at all that Axel had gestured to. If Roxas had heard right, Axel was suggesting that all of this – wasn't real? It was all just… some kind of computer program? And – and all that about other people leaving… Naminé leaving with one of Axel's friends… Fact: …it was all too goddamn confusing to draw any concrete thoughts.

Roxas didn't know what to think, what to believe. He'd spent all this time fearing for Axel, had formed such strong convictions at last about the redhead's intentions being so heinous, and now here he was again… What did he have to gain from continuing this charade? Roxas didn't have money, which cancelled out the main force behind his certainty.

"Roxas." Axel's deep voice cut through the maelstrom of his thoughts. He jerked around, brow furrowed in consternation.

"I don't know what to do," he said helplessly. "I don't know… what to _think, _Axel."

"It doesn't need to be forever," the redhead reassured him with an edge of pleading. "They'll let you come back later and say good-bye. It's just that – if it's not _now…"_

"It's not with you," Roxas finished. He pressed his lips together, feeling the weight of the keyblades dragging him down. He wanted nothing more than to lock himself in his room, curl up in bed, and dream his way through this whole mess. When had his nice, pretty, sleepy little life got so screwed up?

Well, the reason was standing in front of him, really. All of this was because of Axel. And all of what was to come…?

"Roxas," Axel hissed desperately. _"Please." _

Roxas met his gaze, saw the longing, and the aching, the core of Axel's anxiety bared so easily for him to see. He saw – he _saw… _

Roxas saw sincerity. Verity. He didn't know what was going on, and he didn't think that he could believe a word of what Axel had said… but suddenly, Roxas felt the last three days fall away, washed clean with the rain. He relaxed, the tips of the keyblades dropping to the ground. Something deep and hard subsided into warmth.

Axel was Axel again.

"I don't know what's going to happen," Roxas said, feeling the voices melt together and seep away, taking the blood-thirsty rage with them, leaving only a blond boy standing in the rain on the clock tower. "And I don't know what the hell you're talking about." He dropped the keyblades with a noisy clatter, Axel's eyes following them, rising back to Roxas. "But I don't want to lose you again."

Axel's head bowed, chin touching his chest. Roxas watched the tension calm in the redhead, and when the green lit upon him again, there was a smile on the redhead's face. "I really do love you, you know."

Roxas drew into himself slightly, warily eyeing the other. "Sure, Axel."

Moments later, he was enveloped, the hard edges of the chakrams pressing into his back as Axel wrapped himself as tightly as he could around the blond. "I missed you," he murmured into Roxas' ear. Slowly, gingerly, Roxas lifted his hands and placed them onto the black-clad back.

"It was… only three days," he mumbled. Axel laughed harshly.

"They tried to make it longer, Roxie. But nothing can keep me from you, you understand that? I don't care if you don't love me back yet, you will in the end. I will _always _fight for you, no matter what."

"Was it… because you broke your watch?"

"The watch wasn't important," Axel said, shaking his head, burying his nose into the short spikes at the back of Roxas' neck. "It's the fact that I stayed beyond the alarm. We're only allowed in for a certain amount of time… fucking rules," he added in a mutter.

"So…" Roxas fidgeted slightly. "What happens now?"

Axel drew back reluctantly, knocking the blond's elbows with the weapons. "Well, I guess if you're coming with me, we'd better get going." He bent to peer into his face. "That was what you meant, right? You _are _coming with me, aren't you?"

Roxas averted his gaze. "I don't know what's going on, Axel, but… I guess I don't want to lose you. Or whatever. I don't want this to be the last time I get to see you."

Axel broke into a sudden beaming grin. "That won't happen, Roxie. We go together, that means we're attached. They'll never be able to separate us again."

Roxas nodded. "Alright then," he said quietly. "Where do we go?"

Axel became business-like. "The mansion," he said. He gave a crooked smile. "Seventh wonder of Twilight Town."

Roxas shrugged. "It's really not that much of a wonder. Naminé's the closest thing to a ghost that place has…"

"God, you're telling me – this one time, at breakfast, she just snuck the fuck up behind me out of the blue and said my name. She was like, 'Axel!' and I was just like, _'Holy shit!' _I spilled my cereal everywhere."

Roxas stared, perplexed. "…What?"

Axel was sheepish. "Okay, keeping to the seriousness, got it." Then he frowned. "Wait, you mean Nam's at the mansion?"

"She's living there," Roxas confirmed.

"Shit." He raised a hand to his mouth in thought. "No, wait, it's okay, we'll just be quiet. She must be standing guard or something. They must have expected me to make a move like this…"

"There was someone looking for you today," Roxas remembered. "A boy. His name was Sora."

Axel blinked, startled. "What? Sora was – _here? _In Twilight Town?"

"Yeah." Roxas thought, then added, "He said your sister sent him to look for you."

Axel scowled. "Oh, great. There's something to look forward to." He sighed, shook his head. "Jesus, we really need to get going. The instant someone knows I'm here, they're gonna come after me. That's why I brought these." He held up the chakrams. Then he glanced down. "You going to bring your keys, Roxie?"

Roxas followed his gaze. "My dad made them… one of them belongs to my mom… they might notice they're missing…"

"They'll be slightly more concerned about the missing Roxas," Axel said gently.

Roxas hesitated, then nodded. "It'll give me… something to remember them by, I guess." He knelt, picked up the weapons.

"They suit you," commented Axel lightly, with a smile. Roxas looked at him, swallowed thickly. He couldn't bring himself to return the expression. His stomach was in knots. He still wasn't sure if this was the right decision to make or not – but it seemed the need to escape was stronger than the need to protect himself… He only hoped that his faith wasn't misplaced.

Following Axel as he headed briefly out of the rain into the innards of the clock tower to descend the several flights of steps, one of the little voices that had yet to vacate whispered that maybe things would be okay, after all.


	10. Chapter 10

**Disclaimer: **I don't own the song 'Here Comes the Bride'. Hell, I don't even know all the words. I doubt Axel does either.

A/N: I have doubts about the quality of this chapter. It's hard to put my finger on it, but there this vague displeasure hovering in background. Must be the lack of fighting and mass-suicide or something. Sadistic Lauren calls for blood.

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CHAPTER TEN

Roxas wanted Axel to hold his hand, to help dispel the butterflies and roaches infecting his gut as they moved quickly through the utterly silent town of Twilight. It was almost scary being out at this time of night, running through the rain. It was such an alien experience. But laden as they were with sharp metal, neither of them had a hand free to clasp. He'd have to just trust that Axel wasn't leading him into anything he'd regret. He had to – to trust Axel.

They slid through the town like shadows, hurrying from one black pool to the next, shoes sending up a shatter of drops from each gathered puddle. Roxas kept darting his gaze to the redhead, his hood back in place, obscuring his face entirely, the long, full-length zipper of the black coat glinting slightly with each step, jingling softly. Their panting breaths filled the air, noisy in what felt like more and more like an open-aired tomb the closer Roxas got to this resemblance of liberation approaching.

Axel glanced back, gestured with one chakram. "Roxie, come on, keep up," he said with quiet urgency. A sense of time expiring had infected them both, now that they were finally on the way to achieving what each saw as their heart's desire, held out of reach before this moment.

They reached the hole in the wall of the tram common, slowed slightly to a brisk walk as they entered the woods on the other side. The rain lessened here, filtered by the trees, the sound of dripping loud and incessant. Axel twirled his weapons nervously, clanking them together in front of his body, picking his way quickly through the underbrush. Roxas anxiously kept close, unfamiliar with the surroundings at this hour. It was like a whole new forest, a bleaker, foreboding one.

Before long, the mansion came into view, a quavering light glowing softly behind the curtain of the white room. Naminé had candles going. Roxas could picture them, lined up along the marble dining table, the golden-haired girl working on her latest image by the dim flickering.

Axel drew to a halt at the edge of the vegetation, gazing up at the mansion, breathing deep and slow through his nose to try and ease the pulsing at his jaw. He wasn't used to racing around like this, and the fear of capture was almost painful in its intensity. He, too, saw the illumination, knew that Naminé was waiting there, possibly already aware of his presence in the system. He wondered how far she'd go to stop him, if she was bothered. He supposed the question was whether or not she wanted to be attached to Roxas. She'd had an interest in Axel's chosen one since she'd found out the name. Seemed she knew the kid from school, they'd been sort-of friends. He didn't know what was motivating her to be here, but he was damn prepared to use the chakrams in order to defend what was his. And Roxie was _his. _

"What now?" Roxas asked breathlessly, arms sore from hefting around the keyblades. He glanced over at his hooded companion. "Do we just go in and hope she doesn't hear?"

Axel rolled his shoulders unhappily. "I guess," he said, voice slightly muffled from within the covering. "There isn't really much else we can do. You ready, Roxie? We might have to kick petite, delicate ass in there to get what we want."

The blond snorted. "I doubt she'd take it that far. I mean, she's a girl."

Axel gave a snort of his own. "Yeah, and she was picked by _Larxene. _There's gotta be something to that decision; Larx isn't the most sentimental of feminine creatures."

"Naminé wouldn't try to stop us," Roxas insisted. "I ran out of here yesterday accusing her of being a – a con-artist." Axel hummed in understanding, unimpressed. "If she catches us, she'll be so happy I don't hate her anymore that she'll let us go."

That is, as long as this wasn't just part of her and Axel's master plan. Roxas couldn't really cling to that belief, but he still found it difficult to shake off all doubts. He wanted so badly for everything to work out. He still didn't know what Axel had been talking about with the whole simulation thing, or what the mansion had to do with any of this, but… well, he had to start somewhere. He had to give _something, _if he was ever going to gain. After having hit rock bottom once already, he figured he could handle it a second time if Axel ended up betraying him. And he had the keyblades – he could hurt one or both of them if they tried anything.

Nervousness washed over him. Suddenly, he wasn't so sure of Naminé's benignity, and Axel being hidden away in that heavy coat wasn't helping matters. Everything was skewed.

"Roxas." He looked over, sucking his bottom lip in worry, wary of the redhead again. Patiently, Axel said, "You can trust me. I haven't brought you here to hurt you. I love you."

"So you keep saying," Roxas responded hoarsely, gaze averted. He hefted the keyblades a little, reassuring himself with their weight. "Just remember, if you try anything at all, I'll be sure to take a limb with me."

He felt the smile from the other. "Deal. I'm right-handed, so it's all yours."

"I'll be sure to go for your left," Roxas said flatly. "After all, it's hard to tell with you."

Axel stiffened slightly, nodded, set out without another word, rustling the wet bushes ringing the edge of the property. Roxas hesitated, followed, jogging to catch up with the redhead's long strides. The metal bars of the gate were slick and wet, cold like ice as Roxas' knuckles brushed them, one keyblade scraping the rust as he slipped through the gap. Axel whipped around, glaring at the noise, Roxas mouthing an apology, eyes darting up to the high, broad window.

They moved up to the front of the house, coming in at an angle in case Naminé was peeping through the curtains, taking advantage of every ink-black lake of shadow along the way. They drew up alongside the door, Axel checking to make sure Roxas was where he was meant to be, before reaching out and testing the door handle. Unlocked. He pushed it open, cringing at the groan of the hinges, and the pair entered out of the rain.

Roxas took several steps into the high-ceilinged foyer, wishing he could rub some warmth into his arms, the t-shirt and sweater flimsy against the chill. He turned, lips blue, teeth chattering slightly, as Axel eased the door shut again. He moved to join Roxas, pulling back his hood, freeing the bright red spikes. It was a relief, to see his features again, even in the darkness. Axel smiled at him, a regretful gleam to his green eyes. "Keep quiet, okay?" They both glanced up to the closed door of the white room, a slight glow spilling through the cracks.

"Axel, I'm sorry," Roxas whispered. Axel paused, looked at him questioningly, with a hint of fear. "I – I trust you."

Axel relaxed, reached out and touched a chakram to Roxas' shoulder. "Always knew you were too cute for words," came the soft reply. "Follow me."

They crossed the foyer, keeping their steps light. They trotted up the stairs with minimal noise, casting cautious looks always at Naminé's door, expecting her to come out and investigate at any second. Axel paused, hooked an arm behind Roxas' back, pressed him forward so they were hurrying along side by side. They went the opposite direction to the white room, treading the thin, aged, maroon carpet until they reached a new room, Axel opening it without hesitation, ushering Roxas in ahead of him.

It was an old library, almost untouched by the years aside from the fine layer of filth coating every surface. Several bookshelves lined the walls, the books undisturbed, virtually cemented together after all this time. A large window revealed the dark outside world, a view of black trees swaying in the wind. It was colder in this room than in the foyer, a breath of ice creeping around the edges, crawling through Roxas' damp clothing, making him shake all the more harder. A large desk and chair dominated the room, drawing the eye.

Roxas turned to Axel, asking, "What now? It's just a room."

"Hm, not just a room." Axel frowned in concentration, moving to the desk. He set his chakrams down carefully, gloved fingers running across the wooden surface, which was, in direct contrast to the rest of the room, grime-free. "Beneath us is the computer lab. We use it to get to and from Hollow Bastion. I used the train earlier this afternoon… illicit, but necessary…"

"The – train?"

"The train," Naminé confirmed. The two males spun, Axel instantly snatching up his weapons, Roxas hitching up the keyblades. "It's how I arrived on Sunday evening… although _I_ was _sent _here." She pursed her lips in disapproval. "You two aren't supposed to be here." Her gaze found Axel. "I can't let you do this, you've been taken off of Roxas' case."

"I'm the one that picked him," Axel argued.

Naminé waved off his disagreement. "It doesn't matter, you know that. DiZ has taken custody of him."

Roxas decided this was as fine a time as any to break in. "I want to go with Axel," he said, meeting Naminé's pale blue eyes solemnly. "I'm sorry about what I said earlier, Nam, I just got freaked out and upset. But… this is what I want."

"It's not about what you want, Roxas," she said gently. "But I'm glad you've forgiven me. I really haven't done anything wrong at all."

"What do you mean, not about what he wants?" Axel snapped. "This whole fucking thing is about what he wants! He wants to leave, he wants to attach to me, so what's the big fucking deal?"

"It's against the rules, Axel. You're here unofficially. I can't even begin to say what kinds of trouble you'll be in, for that alone!" She frowned at him. "Don't drag Roxas into your mess. You're being selfish."

"You know," Axel drawled, fixing her with a hard look, "for a chick who ran away from home, you sure are a stickler for the goodie-two-shoes image." He lowered his face, watching her from under his brow, expression darkening. "Thing is, Nami, how exactly are you going to stop us?" He swung his shoulders loosely, hooking up one chakram, spinning it, while the other hung from his other hand readily. "Because the last time I checked, pouting in a ladylike fashion wasn't a match for steel."

She looked calmly to Roxas. "Are you approving of this, Roxas? He's threatening me with physical harm."

"I know that," Roxas replied evenly. "Do I look stupid? Fact is, I'm on his side. This whole thing is idiotic. It _because _of your stupid rules that Axel's in trouble at all."

"Because he doesn't obey them, yes," Naminé retorted. "But Roxas, what he's doing now isn't right. It's going to get you _both _into trouble." She swung on Axel, glaring. "They're not going to let you just go on as if you've done nothing wrong. You'll get _punished, _Axel. What do you think that's going to mean for Roxas?"

"Roxas is a big boy," Axel growled. "He can take care of himself."

"Yeah," the blond agreed, holding up his keyblades. "Naminé, I've gotta say, this isn't looking good for you. You're not going to persuade either of us otherwise. I want to leave Twilight Town. I don't really get how, or what you guys are even talking about, but if I'm sticking to facts, all I can say is that this is what I want to do, and it's what I'm _going _to do." He gave her an imploring look, added softly, "Come on, Nam, you know what it's like. Let me get away just like you did. Let me run from this place."

"What about your family? Your friends?" the girl demanded. "You're just abandoning them, Roxas!"

Axel snorted. "You're one to talk."

"I made a mistake!" she admitted angrily. "I regret running off like I did. I _wish _I'd taken the time to at least tell them I love them. Roxas, please, don't screw this up. If you'd just hold _on, _just for a couple more _days…"_

"I want to go with Axel," the blond insisted stubbornly.

"Is Axel more important to you than the people who raised you?" Naminé snapped.

Axel's eyes widened, as did Roxas'. For a long moment, there was silence in the room, Naminé keeping her pleading eyes locked on Roxas.

"Right now… Yes." His voice was soft, but clear. "I've gotta get out of here. I won't stop loving them, but – "

"And what happens when they wake up and find your bed empty?" she demanded. "What then?"

Roxas' mouth opened and shut. He glanced to Axel for help, for guidance, fearfully. Naminé had a point. He didn't want them to just… not know what happened. They'd get scared… they'd come looking for him… He wasn't even sure where he was going. He hadn't even left a crummy _note. _What would happen to them? Would they think he'd been kidnapped?

No. After his recent behaviour, they'd probably just assume he'd run away… Which, he supposed, was _exactly _what he was doing. He was running away from home, with the boy he'd met two weeks ago, who claimed to love him. Wasn't _this_ just a pretty little romance novel situation.

So, was he selfish enough to leave without ever letting them know the truth?

Could he, if he wasn't, really go home and curl back up in bed, as though none of this had occurred?

Axel had said he'd get to come back and say good-bye – wasn't that enough?

"Naminé…"

She flattened a little, disappointed. "You'll regret this. You really will, Roxas. It's not like you're going to a magical world where you'll always be happy. I understand wanting to leave, you _know _I do – but it's not going to be any more of a fairytale out there than it was in here."

Roxas' eyes narrowed. "You think this place is a computer program, too?"

"It _is, _Roxas, all the more reason for us to leave and live real lives," she said. She clasped her hands, bringing them up to her chest. "But that doesn't mean the people in it aren't real – it doesn't mean they won't feel real pain that you're gone. When I lived here… you and your friends always looked so happy together. I always wished…" She let her hands slip back down to her sides, a sad expression in her clear eyes. "I always dreamed of being happy like you, instead of depressed and trapped. And here you are, anyway, feeling just like I always did, but – I…" She touched a hand to her head, muttered, "I'm arguing myself onto your side here." She closed her eyes briefly, Axel glancing over at him, Roxas meeting his gaze, uncertain, giving a little shrug.

"The point is, this is going to hurt a lot of people," Naminé said at last, having regathered her thoughts. "Is that what you want, Roxas?"

"Hey, come on now, that's just not fair," Axel snapped, stepping in front of Roxas. "Manipulate him a little more, why don't you?"

"It's not manipulation if it's true," she shot back. "All you care about is being attached to him, and helping him forget his life here as fast as possible to be with _you. _Think about Roxas, Axel! If you really loved him, you'd be letting him do this in his own time, rather than forcing his hand!"

"It's because I love him that I'm doing it at all," Axel responded sharply. "It's not like I think I'm going to get away with it, but if me and Roxie are attached, that's all that matters to me."

"How can I convince you otherwise?" Naminé urgently asked Roxas. The blond shook his head, unhappily.

"Naminé – I'm… sorry, but…"

"Roxas, please don't do this."

"This is what Roxas wants," Axel said, frowning. "Why can't you just let him go? He's told you clearly that he wants to leave. If you've been paying attention at all the last couple days, you'll know how badly he wants this. It's not like I'm forcing him to come with me. We both want to be attached."

Naminé's lips tightened. "I'm not very happy with you right now, Axel. It's because of _you _that Roxas ran out of here crying because he thought we were trying to hurt him by taking advantage of his desperation."

"He knows better now," replied the redhead curtly. "We've already talked about it. He trusts me."

Her eyes narrowed, mouth pursing. "Don't you realise that you _are_ taking advantage of him?"She glanced at them each in turn. "This is going to tear your parents apart," she accused Roxas. He averted his gaze.

"I'm sorry about that, but I'm leaving eventually anyway. I – don't think I can hold on anymore. And even if I could…" He met her hard look with one of his own, determination forming at last. "I want to go with Axel."

Ignoring the broad smile cracking the redhead's face, Naminé stomped into the room, pushed past them, Axel jerking his chakrams out of range, but her aim was the desk. She planted herself on it, sitting firmly on the clean wood, a stubborn set to her face, fingers gripping the edge tightly. Regarding them defiantly, she said, "I'm not going to let you do this. It's completely against the rules, and totally unfair to Roxas' family and friends. I might not be able to stop your steel with my _ladylike pout, _but I don't think you'll hurt me to get your own way. So there! I'm – not – moving!"

Roxas and Axel exchanged glances, the blond bewildered, the redhead smug. "Nami, honey," he drawled. "I don't need steel to move your ass off that desk."

She glared, clamping her legs together, nails digging into the wood, making Axel laugh. He went to the bookcase, both sets of blue eyes tracing his every move, and set the chakrams carefully down. He straightened, stretching his fingers and cracking his knuckles, a smirk in place as he sauntered over to where the blonde girl hunkered lower, glowering out from behind the curtain of the hair falling across her face.

"Axel, don't you touch me," she warned. "I swear to God, I will tell Kairi that you manhandled me."

He snorted, green eyes rolling. "Like I care."

"Fine! I'll tell Larxene then! You leave me no choice!"

The redhead hesitated for a moment, hands pausing as they reached for the female, Roxas watching on with a clueless expression. Naminé saw the pause, relaxed slightly, smirking happily.

Axel shrugged. "I'll jump off that bridge when I get to it," he remarked flippantly, then grabbed the small girl around the waist and hauled. Letting out an angry squeal, she clutched the desk as long as she could, but after a short struggle, was hefted off and clamped within the redhead's arms. Axel crushed her against his chest, bridal-style, pinning her arms to her sides, her knees together so she couldn't kick.

Roxas yelped, backing away as Axel swung around, grinning wildly. "Watch out, Roxie, she bites. Kinda like you! Say, does that mean you fight like a girl?"

Roxas frowned. "How about we go a round and you find out?" He shook his head at the rich laugh that greeted the comment, gestured with a keyblade to the wriggling girl. "What exactly are you planning on doing?"

"Oh, she'll be fine. I'll truss her up in a corner someplace. She's a slippery little eel," he cooed down into the infuriated face, red spots burning at the cheeks, "so I'm sure she'll free herself eventually."

"_Axel, put me down! Now!"_

Axel broke into song, crooning 'Here Comes the Bride' as he swept from the room with the girl held close. Her angry screeches rang throughout the enormous foyer. Roxas followed them to the staircase, holding on the banister and watching in bemusement as Axel kicked open the door to the white room further along the landing.

"_Roxas! I can't believe you're letting him do this!" _

Roxas trailed over to the open door, nervous as the cries became muffled. Axel had stripped off his wet coat, now only in long sleeves and his black jeans. He glanced back, flashed a bright smile at the blond. Naminé's wrists were firmly bound with the strap of her messenger bag, the arms of the coat winding around to add to it. The hood had been firmly jammed into her mouth, her expression screwed up as she fought to force the soggy material from between her teeth.

"Pity I can't do it as a straitjacket," the redhead muttered, earning a burning glare and a growl from the girl. He gave the tangle a final tug, testing it, then stood back to admire his handiwork. Naminé was wrapped in black, from her knees to her chin. It was a good thing Axel was so tall; it meant extra length to get the knots right. Hands on hips, looking far less like the mysterious figure he'd seemed to be on the clock tower and more like the idiot senior Roxas had his first male-crush on, he twisted happily and asked, "What do you think?"

Roxas blinked, nodded a couple times, opened his mouth and agreed, "…Trussed."

Naminé made some anxious grunts, blue eyes fixed appealingly on Roxas. Axel stepped up beside him, clapping a hand against his shoulder, grinning down at the helpless girl. "Well, me and Roxie need to get going, but hey – it's been memorable." He flashed her a thumbs-up, and steered Roxas from the room, hooking his arm around the blond's neck. Roxas smiled without meaning to, leaning into the other teen.

Naminé might have been tied up, people might have been claiming his town wasn't real, he might have been about to leave home forever – but he felt right again, and comfortable, and… somewhere inside, lay that certain part of him that almost remembered the smell of Axel's skin. Just like on that evening at Sunset station – was it only Saturday? – he felt a spark of familiarity wash over him, almost sending a shiver through his muscles. It was nostalgic, leaning against Axel, and Roxas couldn't help but wonder if some part of the redhead's crazy explanation was true. Had they known each other before? Somehow…?

Had Axel – really chosen him?

He angled his head back slightly to look up at the other man, a wondering expression on his face. Axel felt the gaze, glanced down, smiled. "Everything okay down there, Roxie?"

"I'm not _that _short," the blond grumbled. Axel chuckled, shaking his red spikes back and forth.

"No – you're just short enough."

"For what?"

"For what?" Axel paused as they entered the library, eyebrows raised. He released Roxas, turned to face him, hands on his shoulders, studying him contentedly for a moment. "Well, this, for starters." He bent and kissed the blond, a careful, sweet offering, tongue touching the other's lips without seeking entrance.

Roxas breathed in sharply, and, when Axel pulled away a few seconds later, managed to point out, "But you have to bend. That means I'm not the right height."

Axel squeezed his eyes shut, a crazy grin in place as he tipped his head back. "Oh, God – so innocent. No, I won't say it, I won't." He straightened, threw him a wink, eyes sparkling. "I'll spare you, for now, but damn it, Roxas, you just hand them to me on a platter, don't you?"

"Hand you _what _on a platter?" the blond demanded. "Why do I get the feeling I'm giving you dirty thoughts?"

"Hell, Roxie." Axel quirked a brow his direction, a sly half-smile in place. "You do _that _by existing." He shifted over to the desk. "Now, let's get the fuck out of here. I just gave away my coat to a girl like the perfect gentleman I am, and now I'm freezing my ass off. Besides…" He turned to Roxas, a gentle expression on his face. "I feel like taking you home."

He ran a hand over the wooden surface, finger tracing two interlocked circles carved expertly into the wood. Roxas came to stand alongside him, frowning. "What're you – "

"Ssh." Axel lifted a finger to his lips, not glancing up at the blond, continuing to draw circles on the desk. At last, after maybe two minutes, he branched out, creating a circle of his own, invisible but obvious, in almost perfect dimensions, joining flawlessly with the others. There was a low click, then a rumbling, a vibration absorbing the floor, sending Roxas back with a startled curse. He pressed himself hard against the bookcase, eyes shooting wide as the entirety of the floor beyond the desk simply grinded back. Axel came to lean beside him, watching with anticipation, waiting for the process to complete itself. At last, the library floor was gone – in its place, a sharp drop to tiles, a set of stairs leading down into a hidden room. "Holy crap," Roxas croaked, eyebrows knitted together. "I didn't know it could do that."

"You should've explored more when you had the chance," the redhead said smugly, poking the tip of Roxas' nose before leaning across the blond and hooking up his chakrams from their undisturbed position. "Come on, it's safe." He descended casually into the pit, Roxas edging forward uneasily to peep down. "Roxas, you're not jumping – take the stairs." Axel was already at the bottom, gazing up with a reassuring smile. "It's fine, really."

Swallowing hard, Roxas eased down onto the first step, then the second, taking them carefully, the keyblades held high so they wouldn't trip him. At last, he reached Axel, who appeared amused by the other's caution. "We're almost done. We'll be in Hollow Bastion before you know it."

Roxas froze, panicking suddenly. "You're serious, aren't you? Twilight Town – isn't real. And – out there is the real world?" His eyes darted around. "I've spent my life living in a computer." He met the green eyes desperately. "What do I do, Axel? I – I don't know how to live outside of Twilight Town! What if everything's different? What happens if I want to come back?"

Axel was at his side in a second, soothing him, the heavy weight of his chakram on Roxas' back as he tried to rub circles against the cloth of his sweater. "It's okay to be scared, Roxie," he said. "It's okay. Nobody's going to hurt you out there. You'll be completely safe, I promise. The real world is just the same as Twilight Town, just bigger – you'll see. You'll love Hollow Bastion, and it'll love you, I know it." He wrapped his arms around the trembling blond, hugged him tightly. "It's going to be okay. I'll protect you every step of the way." He pressed his lips to Roxas' ear, kissed it briefly then whispered, "Please, Roxie, we have to keep going. If they figure out I'm here, we'll both be shut out until they can bring us separately. Just keep going, and soon you'll be able to rest. I'll give you the bed, all to yourself. No groping on the first night, I promise."

Roxas gave a laugh that sounded almost like a sob, tucked his head into Axel's neck for a second, taking strength from his warmth, then nodded and straightened. Axel let him reluctantly go, looking as if he'd much prefer to stay right where they were if only Roxas would return his face to his throat like that.

There were two steel doors in the hidden basement room. Axel led Roxas to the closer one, pressing a button on the wall to make it slide open and admit them. Roxas stepped through, gripping the keyblades hard, finding himself in an elaborate one-person computer lab. A large, comfortable chair was set up in front of multiple screens of varying sizes, designed to allow maximum visibility to the viewer.

"I bet it has great graphics," Roxas said weakly, attempting humour. Axel grinned appreciatively, going over to activate the machine. The only other feature in the room was a dangerous-looking spike descending from the ceiling, pointing down to a square pad in a recess in the wall. For a couple of minutes, Axel sat himself in the chair, and the sound of tapping filled the air as he typed rapidly, eyes following the jumble of electronic language suddenly tumbling down every screen.

"What… _is _all this?" Roxas asked uncertainly, coming to stand behind him.

"I'm getting us home," Axel replied shortly, concentrating. The glow from the monitors filled the room, casting eerie shadows, reigniting Roxas' fears as his eyes darted about.

"How do you know all this stuff?"

"I'm a junior technician," Axel reported, not sparing the blond a glance. "I help maintain your Twilight Town. I've…" His fingers stilled for a moment. "I've been watching you for a long time, Roxas." He got typing again.

Roxas absorbed this with wide eyes, worrying at his bottom lip, not sure what to think or how to feel, the gnawing in his stomach making him nauseous. He settled on disquiet, falling silent and allowing the other teen to continue his work unhindered.

At last, he gave the keys a final stroke, and pushed back, swinging the chair around, snatching up his weapons as he got to his feet. "Okay, it's ready for us," he said. "Are you ready for this?"

"No isn't really an option, is it?"

Axel paused, a flash of pain briefly distorting his features. "Look, Roxie, if this isn't what you want, you don't have to go through with it."

"No, don't – " Roxas bowed his head, gave a high, anxious laugh. "Don't give me a choice, okay? Because I don't know right now what I'd say. Let's just – let's just go… please?"

Axel nodded firmly, not willing to waste time arguing, not wanting to give the blond any extra time to decide he didn't want this after all. He ushered Roxas over to stand beneath the deadly spike-looking thing, the blue eyes glancing up nervously. "What's going to happen?"

"We're going to be drawn out of the system and reconstructed in Hollow Bastion." Axel shot him a look, warned, "It's going to feel weird, but you'll be fine, I swear it. Just go with whatever happens. Any second now, you'll be free, Roxie."

"Oh, shit," he whimpered, closing his eyes and burying himself into Axel's chest as the redhead joined him under the spike. Axel's arms wrapped around him.

"Conducting in three… two… one…" Axel bent down, whispered, "I love you."

They shattered into a million pieces and were swept away, out of Twilight Town, a swirl of multi-coloured pixels.

-------

Solid ground. Air. Coldness.

Roxas fell to his knees, legs buckling instantly beneath him, and collapsed onto his stomach. The keyblades jabbed into him hard, wrists bent at awkward angles, the blond gasping and sweating, eyes wide but unseeing. His mouth hung open as he sucked in each panting breath, nerve endings on fire like the buzzing of a thousand angry bees swarming under his flesh.

He felt like he'd just been ripped apart at a cellular level and stuck back together by a five-year-old with a tub of paste and assorted coloured ribbons. He heaved, fortunately dryly, gag reflex going nuts at the back of his throat as his brain screamed that the world was upside-down and inside-out all at the same time.

Then Axel was there, murmuring quietly, the words not yet making sense but the intent behind them relaxing Roxas the slightest amount, enough to be pulled up off the floor. His numb fingers released the keyblades, letting them clang loudly to the ground, making Axel wince. The redhead slid an arm through Roxas', hooking around his back to hold him up. "Hold onto me, Roxie. Hold onto me." A hand took his hand, lifted it to the fabric of Axel's black shirt, encouraged the fingers to hook in and cling. "Don't let me go, Roxie. It's okay. We're here now. Just don't let go."

The redhead struggled to hold both Roxas and his chakrams, failed miserably and threw the weapons to the ground to lie with Roxas'. His grip becoming more secure on the blond, he led the staggering teen out of what looked like a second computer lab, this one larger, more airy, a bank of controls spanning one wall in a complicated arrangement.

"I'm taking you to my room, okay?" Axel continued to speak to the disorientated blond, despite the dazed lack of response. "I made the bed and everything, just for you, Roxie. I'll wait until you fall asleep, then I'll come get your giant keys, okay? They'll be there when you wake up in the morning." His arms tightened around Roxas in a spontaneous, joyful embrace. "You made it, Roxas! You did so well. Everything's fine now – you're out of Twilight Town, you're in Hollow Bastion _right now. _You were so brave."

Roxas was aware of his feet moving, but couldn't have tried to take note of the twists and turns they took as Axel murmured endlessly in his ear, the blond all but hanging in his grip.

"Almost there, Roxie. Everything's going to be perfect from now on, you'll see. You're living for the first time, and you're going to _love _it."

"Axel, stop right there!"

Axel froze, eyes wide. "Naminé, you bitch," he breathed. Roxas groggily lifted his head, forcing his eyes to focus.

"That's not Naminé," he frowned. A man stood before them, dressed in a curious sort of robe, maroon like the carpet of the mansion… how weird is that? Weirder still, the freak had shining yellow eyes, the only part of his head not completely obscured by the thin bandages wrapped around and around.

"Burns victim?" Roxas muttered out loud.

"DiZ." Axel sounded petrified. "Uh, look, sir – I just – I was just…"

"Naminé informed me what 'you were just'," the man said, his voice a deep, upper-crust growl as he glared at the redhead. "I am very disappointed, Axel. You won't be allowed to see this boy for some time. Your haste has cost you."

"No!" Axel clutched the blond close. "You can't take him from me! I _just got him here!" _

"You should have thought of that before taking matters into your own hands." The golden eyes settled on Roxas, moving slowly up and down. "He looks atrocious, Axel. We weren't ready for him yet; there is no one awake to calm him."

"I can do it," Axel snapped. "I know how – no one else needs to touch him!"

The man shook his head slowly. "You've been foolish," he said disapprovingly. "And now, perhaps you'll realise. Your selfishness has cost both you _and _the boy."

"Please – sir, don't do this…"

The man turned, arms tucking behind his back, posture rigidly straight. "You may take the boy to your room. I will send someone for him in the morning. You, in the meantime, will come straight to my study once he is settled in." He paused, without turning, and added coldly, "Don't disobey me again, Axel. I thought I had made myself quite clear when sending Naminé that your involvement was no longer required. If you make me come looking for you, your punishment will be even more severe than it already is."

Axel struggled, one last time: "But… _sir…"_

"Time is wasting. Your friend needs his sleep. Don't harm him any further than you already have by keeping him out here in the halls."

Axel's head dropped as the man swept away. Roxas' face lolled sideways, resting in the curve between Axel's neck and shoulder. "Axel? What's going on?"

Axel sniffed, kissed his temple. "It's okay, Roxie," he said miserably. "Everything's going to be fine."

He took the blond down several corridors, before pushing through a closed door, into a dim room. A bed, a wardrobe, and a pile of clothing on the floor were the only decoration the cramped space had to offer. Roxas was eased down onto a cool, inviting bed, soft and comfortable, every inch covered with the smell of Axel. He burrowed in without help, eyes slipping shut, a pleased, exhausted smile touching his lips.

Axel stayed for several minutes, watching Roxas drift off to sleep, a hand resting on the warm rise of his hip under the blanket. Despite the trouble he was in, Axel couldn't help smiling down at the slumbering blond, love and affection swelling in his chest. He bent down and gently kissed the high sweep of Roxas' exposed cheekbone, relishing the scent and taste of his skin.

"I won't let them keep me from you…" He rose, moved to the door, his eyes remaining firmly on the blond. "I love you," he whispered, hoping the words would find their way into Roxas' dreams.

He closed the door, and continued on to meet DiZ.


	11. Chapter 11

**A/N: **If you ask me where my head was today, I just might have to answer Hong Kong, because it sure as hell wasn't doing a good job of pretending to be on my shoulders. I cannot get over how ridiculously hard this chapter was to write. I ended up soothing my blocked brain by reading a few chapters of 'Ferocity Green' by CloverFromMars (and look, now I'm pimping! I'm all grown up). I was expecting a nice calm day, and instead found myself in Distraction Central. Sheesh. I need an avocado chicken salad. Right freaking now. Okay, and now my rant is complete.

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CHAPTER ELEVEN

There was something heavy on Roxas' back, centred just above his pelvis. There were also bony protrusions, that felt suspiciously like knees, digging into his hips.

He rose through the layers of sleep, gradually and then suddenly, eyes snapping open a moment after he became aware of the extra presence in his bed.

Cheek flat to the pillow, he growled, "Axel, if that's you, so help me, I'm going to castrate something."

"Good thing it's not Axel, then!"

Roxas let out a yelp and flailed, then groaned heavily, mouth pressing deep into the soft material. Pain pulsed through his body, everything cramped, impossibly tight, as though he'd spent the night climbing a mountain without prior warning or training.

A pair of hands planted into his back, the heels of the palms digging deep between his shoulder blades, bringing forth a mixture of pain and relief. The owner of the voice lifted up onto her knees and hung down over Roxas' head, giving him an upside-down smile.

"Hi there. I'm the great ninja Yuffie. I'm here to be your personal calmer and masseuse!"

"My-wha? Where's Axel?"

She shrugged. "Beats me. DiZ called Leon this morning, told him there was a new kid needing some help." She beamed, hair hanging down onto his pillow. "So, here I am!"

"Who… wh-where am I?" Roxas asked, bewildered. She laughed, settling back down into her previous position, making him squirm uncomfortably.

"You're in Hollow Bastion, kid. Don't you remember?" She took hold of his sweater and t-shirt, still slightly damp from the night before, and started tugging them up. Roxas spluttered, struggling to stop her, but she was too quick and strong for him in this confused, aching state. Before he knew it, his face was buzzing slightly from having fabric ripped over his head, and he was half-naked on a bed with a girl perched behind him.

"Help," he croaked, panicking, rough voice barely leaving the room.  
"Ah, relax, I'm not gonna do anything much," she snorted, and promptly dug her elbows sharply into the heart of the muscles lining Roxas' spine. He let out a squawk of pain, arching off the bed.

"So," she said conversationally, when he'd fallen limply back down. Her hands kneaded away at him. "You're from the simulation, right?"

"Uh…" He forced his head sideways, tilting to try and peer back at the girl. "What are you doing to me?"

"I told you," she chirped. "I'm your masseuse and calmer. This is the first time you've had a real body since you were five years old, kid."

Roxas squeezed his eyes shut as her fists ground into the flesh under his ribcage. "What are you talking about?"

"You've been in the Twilight Children network for thirteen years. That's a way long time to spend as a buncha pixels."

His face scrunched up. "I'm in… the real world now… aren't I?"

"You sure are! And it was Axel who brought you through, huh?"

"Yeah…" Edges of memories were murmuring against Roxas' mind. He frowned, concentrating. "Where _is _Axel?"

The girl shrugged. "Toldya kid, I don't know. I just came because Leon told me to. Anyway, I don't even know Axel too well. We run with different crowds, you know?"

"Why isn't he _here, _though?" Roxas asked insistently, the panicky feeling bubbling back up. "He said – he said he wouldn't leave me."

She patted his bare shoulders soothingly. "It's okay, he'll be along eventually. Today, though, you're sticking with me and mine. You got a name, kid?"

"It's… Roxas."

"Cool name! Well, Roxas, I'm part of the Hollow Bastion Restoration Committee. You'll be hanging with me and helping rebuild the town for a while – DiZ told Leon we get first dibs on you, and we could always use the extra pair of hands."

"Will Axel be there?" the blond asked urgently.

"Jeeze, talk about a one-track mind," the girl grumbled. "Seriously, kid, I don't know what's going on with that guy, okay? If you're so worried, talk to Leon when you see him. He probably knows."

For a while they lapsed into silence, the girl, Yuffie, working on his back, before swinging off to one side and starting on his right shoulder and arm, right down to the fingertips. Her strong hands pushed and manipulated the aching cramps, loosening them one by one. In time, she moved onto the left side, at a more awkward angle because of the wall in the way.

"Don't be blushing now," she teased, as she lowered to his buttocks and upper thighs. As Roxas did anyway, burying his face deep into the pillow and feeling humiliation trickle through his veins, she gave his leg a comforting pat. "Come on, now, I've even let you keep your pants on. I've groped bigger, better bodies than yours, so don't worry, I'm not perving on you."

"Is that meant to make me feel better?" Roxas growled, muffled.

She laughed. "Sure, why not? You'll get used to it, I promise. You'll need to – you've got a few more of these scheduled during the week. It's no small business being solid for the first proper time."

"I was solid before," he grumbled, vaguely offended. Then, "Fuck, _ow! _What are you _doing _back there?"

"Stop whining, it's not that bad. And you might've been solid enough, but not like this." She leaned down so they could meet eye-to-eye. "Think about it: for the first time in thirteen years, you're not a code, kid. There's no numbers out here except the ones you make yourself." She smiled, brown eyes crinkling kindly, a sort of pride as she said, "You're your own person again. Congratulations, you've graduated from a Twilight Child to a Hollow Bastion man."

And Roxas _did _feel a little thrill – he was free now. No more traps, no more pretending… He had his own _life. _He smiled a little, the expression fading when he thought of Axel. He'd said he wouldn't let them be separated… but someone had managed to. Why else would the redhead not be here? Roxas cursed his faded memory of the previous night. From the computer lab onward, he had trouble remembering anything except an all-encompassing dizziness. He felt okay now, but the lack of Axel was driving him crazy. What happened to them being attached?

At last, Yuffie halted in her ministrations, hopping to her feet and jumping the pins-and-needles from her legs after having sat for so long. "You can try and sit up now," she said brightly. "You'll still be stiff, but I _think _you'll find it's an improvement from all-out screaming agony."

Roxas shot her squinty-eyed look, and carefully pushed up onto his elbows. Well, nothing was seizing up like it did the first time – he figured that was a good thing. This girl must've been pretty good at the massage stuff. He did, as she'd warned, feel an almost arthritic jerkiness in his bones, but he could move properly, so he wasn't complaining. He sat up, scratching idly at his stomach, fingers a little numb, but warm enough.

Yuffie watched him with a satisfied expression, nodding to herself. "So, okay, you can pull your shirt back on now. I'll go wait in the hall, and you come out when you're done doing whatever, okay?"

She left, the door clicking shut, Roxas still sitting on the bed, gazing around feeling lost. Axel's scent covered almost every inch of the room, reassuring him that he was at least in the right place – but he didn't know what to do with himself. There was a girl he'd never met waiting for him in the hall, he was in a dark place he'd never seen before, in a body he'd apparently not used since he was five years old – and wasn't that when he'd decided he wanted to work in a toy store?

He'd graduated from a Twilight child to a Hollow Bastion man, despite the fact that his experience of Hollow Bastion so far was the inside of this one, dim bedroom. Why had he been in a program to begin with?

He'd spent his entire life inside a computer. The air he breathed right now, stuffy and warm, was the first real air he'd inhaled since before pre-pubescence. It was fresher than the coldest breezes that whipped across Sunset hill, hotter than the furnace in his basement, and so reminiscent of Axel that it hurt to breathe.

Roxas' eyes narrowed as he glanced around the room. "Damn it, Axel," he hissed. "Where are you?"

He got to his feet, tottering and weak, taking a moment to steady himself before going to the wardrobe and swinging the doors open. The rack of clothing was comprised of various outfits he'd seen Axel wearing. It occurred to Roxas, suddenly, that this was where Axel returned to whenever his watch went off, whenever he went home for the night – Axel didn't _have_ a home address or phone number in Twilight Town. That's why no one could find him or get hold of him. When Axel had broken the rules by staying longer than he was meant to, he had been kept _here. _Here, in Hollow Bastion, in the real world. For the three days in which Roxas had grown increasingly frantic, Axel had been _here. _

Startled by the revelation, the blond reached in and pulled out a shirt, staring at it for a moment. It was the same one Axel had worn on Saturday. This was – Axel's _room. _Roxas pulled the shirt on, too long in the sleeves, a little tight around the waist, and wrapped his arms around his stomach for a long minute, gazing dumbfounded into the collection of Axel's wardrobe. Roxas… didn't have any clothes of his own. Or money. Or a complete education, now that he'd tossed his senior year down the drain. Roxas… didn't even have his own bed. He'd spent the night in Axel's.

_Where _was Axel?

There was a knock, the girl's voice muffled as she called through, "You still alive in there, kid? I'm getting hungry. Breakfast's waiting."

Breakfast?

…Roxas could stand to eat.

-------

Roxas had his hands tucked into the long black sleeves of Axel's shirt, fiddling with the hem as he followed Yuffie along the zig-zagging passages. She led him into a cafeteria, several long metal tables set up surrounded by chairs, most of them occupied by a collection of men, women and teens hunched over eating. Along one wall was a kitchen arrangement, a long counter with various cereal boxes, bowls, toasters and two large stoves set side-by-side.

"This is a community dining hall," Yuffie informed him. "All inhabitants of the castle eat their meals here."

Roxas blinked, stuttering to a stand-still. "…Castle?"

"Well, it ain't a cottage. Go take a look." She waved a hand to the far wall, a set of broad windows letting in light. "I'm gonna get some coffee. You like eggs, kid? I'll get Aerith to cook up a few."

Roxas wasn't listening, drifting over wide-eyed to the windows. A thick mist glided past, like the innards of a cloud lain bare. Beyond it, mountains, chasms, a city set against the base of a cliff.

None of Naminé's pictures could have prepared him for this.

It was… like nothing he had ever seen before. Roxas had seen hills. He had seen the vastness of the sky from the top of the clock tower, the mound of Sunset hill. But this – this rocky, overflowing vista, that city that looked so small from where he stood now, knowing how much bigger it would be up close, the endless view outward – Roxas felt like his eyes were cracking open for the first time, from a two-dimensional dream to full-blooded reality.

"Holy shit," he said softly, twisting the material of his sleeves between his fingers, gaze slowly sweeping back and forth. He wished Axel were here with him for this. He deserved to be, after everything he'd done. Roxas… wanted to share this wonder with him.

"Hey, you…" Roxas turned, dazed, to see a tall silver-haired guy approaching, teal eyes curious. "You're Roxas, right?" He leaned against the window, arms crossed, utterly ignoring the breathtaking beauty it offered, his gaze focused intently on the blond, studying him. Drawing back slightly from the scrutiny, he hesitated, nodded.

"Yeah…?"

The guy smiled, tipped his head to the side, bangs slipping down to obscure half his face. "You probably don't remember me, but we used to go to the same school. I was the year above you."

Roxas examined his features closely, a frown set in place, sifting through his mind for a whisper of recognition. "Um…"

The guy smirked. "It's okay. It's been a few years. You would've been fourteen at the time." He stuck out a hand. "I'm Riku."

Roxas shook, nodded. "You, uh, obviously know my name already."

"You're Axel's pick, aren't you?"

Roxas brightened minutely, drawing his hand back into its warm home inside Axel's sleeve. "Yeah, you know him?"

"Sure, we're both junior technicians. My boyfriend, Sora, is a full techie, and there's a couple others, but most of us are going to be junior for the rest of our lives – we all answer to DiZ. He's master technician." He shook the hair from his face, aqua eyes interested as he asked, "When did you get in? Last I knew, Kairi had us trawling the streets of Twilight Town looking for Axel."

Roxas asked quickly, anxiously, "Do you know where he is?"

Riku's eyes widened. "Don't _you? _What, did he not come back with you or something?"

Miserably, Roxas replied, "I don't remember properly. We came here from Twilight Town last night, but everything is so fuzzy… I know that he was with me, but – well, he said he wouldn't leave me. I – I haven't seen him since." He turned, eyes scouring the room. "That girl Yuffie brought me here. She gave me the most painful fucking massage of my life…"

Riku laughed. "Yeah, I remember those. Don't worry, it gets easier. It won't hurt so much next time. As for Axel…" He frowned. "Now, that I can't help you with. I haven't seen him since before I had to go looking for him. I can ask Kairi…"

"His – his sister, right?" Roxas lightened again, lips parting in a slight smile. He looked again at the gathered heads, trying to find one as violently red as Axel's in female form.

"Yeah. She was in the program for the same amount of time as me. Sora got us both out. It was kind of against the rules, but we all used to be friends before the war, so…"

Roxas hiked a blond brow. "War?"

"Excuse me?"

They both turned to see a young woman with a sweet smile, dressed in pink, hair a brunette braid, holding a plate of eggs, toast, and hash browns. "Roxas?"

The blond blinked, reached up to scratch at his spikes. "Uh, yeah?"

"This is for you." She offered the food, which he took in surprise. "Yuffie asked me to cook you something."

"Oh – thank you. Uh…" He glanced around for a seat, automatically seeking a familiar face.

"Hey, you can come sit with us," Riku offered. The woman shook her head.

"He's with the Restoration Committee today. Leon's asked that he sit with us." She smiled, adding, "I'm Aerith, by the way. I'm part of the Committee, too. I'm a liaison between the Committee and the technicians, along with Leon."

"Yeah, Aerith is our regular little peacekeeper," Riku grinned, earning a soft, affectionate look. He shrugged, straightening, tugging down his shirt a little to smooth the creases. "Well, anytime you want to, you're welcome at the techie table. I'll see what I can find out about Axel for you. So, yeah – enjoy your breakfast, and don't let them work you too hard."

"Wait!" Roxas' fingers burst out of their encasement, snaring his jacket, cutlery clicking against the plate. Riku gave him a questioning glance. Roxas hesitated. "You – you said your boyfriend's name is Sora – right? Short guy, brown spiky hair?" In answer to the nod, the blond swallowed, said, "Please, can you tell him – I'm sorry for yesterday? In the Sandlot? I – can't excuse my behaviour, but… I really am sorry. Will you tell him for me?"

Riku's eyes narrowed. "Sora got beaten up yesterday."

Roxas nodded guiltily. "Yeah, he did."

"You weren't there when I arrived," he said suspiciously. Roxas dipped his face, releasing the other teen's jacket.

"No, I'd – left already. I think I heard you yell, maybe."

"I see…" Riku eyed him guardedly. "I'll – pass along your apology."

Roxas nodded his thanks, not meeting the boy's gaze, arms encircling his breakfast plate. "I'll see you later," he mumbled, turning to follow the woman Aerith, who waited patiently. She gave him a bright, encouraging smile as he came alongside her, then started walking.

"That was a nice thing you did," she murmured, once they were out of earshot. In response to Roxas' baffled glance, she explained, "I was the one that tended to Sora's bruises. He told me what happened." She gave him a warm look. "It's good to know you're not so bad after all. I knew you couldn't be, if Axel chose you."

Roxas was torn between wanting to blush, and wanting to kick himself for being such an idiot, and an asshole to boot. "I – I wasn't really myself then," he said, ashamed. "That's no excuse, I know, but… I – I was kind of out of my head."

"Well, I can guarantee that Riku will pass on the message, and Sora will be overjoyed by it," she reassured. "He was a little upset by how you treated him, but now everything will be fine. He has a very big heart."

"That's good," Roxas mumbled.

Aerith led the way to the table at the far edge of the room, where a small group was sitting, heads bent, for the most part inhaling whatever food was within reach. Roxas recognised Yuffie, gulping down coffee at the end, next to a disgruntled-looking blond man with spikes that put Roxas' hair to shame.

Aerith placed her hands together, waiting to be noticed, a feat which took all of three-point-five seconds. A woman with black hair sitting on the other side of the blond glanced up, eyes lighting at the sight of the pair of them. "Hey, is this the new kid?"

The table paused and turned, a sea of faces studying the suddenly nervous Roxas. Aerith placed a reassuring hand on his shoulder. "Anyone going to scoot up for him?"

"I said it once, I'll say it again: I ain't movin' til I get some goddamn coffee," a second blond man growled from the other side of the table. He smacked the surface suddenly, causing the cups to bounce. "That fuckin' ninja brat stole mine!"

"You snooze you lose, gramps," Yuffie sniffed, sucking down the last dregs in a show of defiance.

The black-haired woman waved him over with a kind smile. "Come sit by me, I promise I won't bite." Roxas shifted around awkwardly, sitting in the chair she offered, placing his plate of rapidly cooling food onto the tabletop. She held a hand over to be shaken, introducing herself as, "Tifa."

"Roxas," the blond croaked, eyes darting about the many faces. One set of steely, blue-grey eyes caught his gaze, a steady, flat look.

"I'm Leon," said the owner of the eyes, deep-voiced, either utterly relaxed or completely disinterested in Roxas' presence, judging by his tone. "I hear you got in late last night."

"Oh, uh, really?" Roxas started cutting his breakfast up into bite-sized pieces. Aerith moved away, heading back towards the kitchen area, leaving Roxas feeling exposed.

"You heard about Axel yet?" the man asked.

"No." Roxas' attention instantly left his plate, as he leaned forward to ask, "Do you know where he is?"

He'd had enough of this in Twilight Town – it was getting too much that here, too, Axel was missing without a trace. The man, Leon, arms crossed over his chest, leaning back in his chair with an ankle crossed over his knee, inclined his head in confirmation.

"He's on probation. Currently, he's cleaning every bathroom in existence in the castle, and he's only allowed to see you at mealtimes. You've also been assigned to hard labour for a week."

Roxas stiffened incredulously. "Me? What'd I do? I didn't break any damn rules!"

He shrugged minutely. "Not my decision, nor my problem. Either way, you're with the Committee for the next week. You don't have the option of making a big deal out of it."

Roxas stared at him for a long minute, Yuffie hiding her sniggers behind her coffee mug. Aerith returned with a fresh cup for the grumpy, older blond, and the man's grumbling died away abruptly.

"Roxas? Are you alright?" she asked, concerned.

"He's okay," Tifa assured her, patting the boy on the back. "He's just found out that Axel's doomed him to a week of shifting rubble from the Crystal Fissure."

"How is this Axel's fault?" Roxas asked suspiciously.

"This is part of his punishment," Leon explained. He smirked, very slightly. "DiZ thought it would affect him more giving it to you than making him do the labour himself."

"So – me doing hard work – that's meant to be punishment for Axel?" Roxas scowled, thought it through, shrugged. Uncertainly, he said, "Well, I mean, it's that's all it is, then he got off pretty lightly, didn't he? I thought something really _bad _was going to happen, from what he said…"

"DiZ isn't the most… _conscionable _of men," said Tifa hesitantly. "At times, he can get a little carried away. However, I guess since no permanent damage was done, he's letting you guys off lightly."

Leon snorted. "If you think this is a light punishment, you'd be mistaken. I'm under orders to make this a tough week for the kid."

"Well, no one's forcing you to abide by that," Aerith interjected, glaring slightly. "DiZ, sitting in his office, will never know just how hard Roxas is pushed unless someone tells him. And no one here would do something that rotten, _would they?" _She fixed them all with a hard look.

The older blond man snorted. "I'd do it for a laugh, if I didn't think you and Tifa'd rip my balls off for it."

"Oh, Cid, grow up," Tifa scowled.

"Yeah, Cid, we're trying to eat here," Yuffie complained. "I don't need to hear anything about your balls any time of the day, let alone _breakfast."_

Roxas was feeling less hungry with each passing minute. Leon, noticing his mostly untouched food, advised evenly, "You should finish that, or you'll collapse by dinnertime. DiZ may or may not be monitoring how hard I work you, but that doesn't mean it's going to be easy."

Aerith sighed, placing a gentle hand on his head. "It'll be okay, Roxas. Eat up. I'll work this out for you."

"Yeah, momma Aerith makes it all better," Yuffie chirped, reaching over and stealing one of his hash browns. She frowned at it. "Ew, it's cold and greasy."

Leon pinched the bridge of his nose between his fingers. "Is everyone nearly ready?"

"I've been ready for the last fifteen minutes," said the blond with the spikes in a dull tone of voice.

"That's because you barely fuckin' eat, Spiky," the older blond muttered.

"Cloud's anorexic," Yuffie informed Roxas, evoking a bewildered look.

The man, Cloud, glared over at her. "For the last time, I'm not ano-fucking-rexic, Yuffie."

She rolled her eyes. "I know, I know, and you don't stick your fingers down your throat _or_ cry in your room like a little girl, either. You've told me this already."

"So why are you telling the new kid I have an eating disorder?"

"Because it's fun?" She shrugged, munching on the cold potato hash. Roxas shook his head slightly, ate an egg.

"I'm ready to leave now," Cloud ground out. Leon stood, collecting some papers into a clipboard in front of him on the table, tucking away the ballpoint pen he'd been toying with.

"Alright, enough then. Everybody up. Today won't be easy for anyone, let alone the new kid. I want you all down at the Fissure in thirty minutes."

Roxas stood along with everyone else, confused. "Um, me too?" he asked Tifa.

"You, too," she confirmed. "It'll be okay. You stick by me, okay?"

Looking unhappy, Aerith caught his arm. "I'll get right on this silly punishment detail, okay? I'll be staying up here, so I'll see if I can find Axel and speak with him."

That made two people seeking the redhead. Roxas wished he could just go and find him himself, but he was quickly swept up along with the tide of human movement, Tifa's gloved hand clamped around his wrist, dispelling any hopes of escape before they'd even formed. This wasn't exactly how he'd pictured real life – he thought leaving Twilight Town meant he could travel, and that he and Axel would lie on rooftops watching the clouds – he didn't realise it equalled indentured servitude. How… disappointing.

As they were leaving the dining hall, he caught a glimpse of white. Head twisting around, he found himself face-to-face with Naminé, next to a girl with wine-red hair wearing just as much pink as Aerith. The golden-haired girl frowned slightly, whether because of the events of last night, or the fact he was being led forcefully out of the room with a group of mostly-insane workers he wasn't sure. She opened her mouth, a quizzical expression on her face, but he was gone before she could form whatever words had been poised to come forth.

-------

Didn't Yuffie say he'd be helping rebuild something?

Axel's shirt lay in the dust, discarded. Roxas worked bare-chested, rivers of sweat pouring down his body in undulating courses. His fingers were torn and numb, palms calloused from lifting rocks, branches, stray pieces of sheet metal. A slow burn was developing across his lightly freckled shoulders, certain to sting later, when there weren't as many immediate pains to worry about.

He was exhausted and angry. He felt cheated. Where the fuck was liberty? Where the _fuck _was Axel?

He had been working for fucking _hours _without a break, struggling to keep up with the almost inhuman endurance of the others. Tifa had explained their plans to build a road through the area to make Hollow Bastion's upper limits easier to traverse. Roxas didn't particularly fucking care.

A halt was called at last for lunch. The group gathered under an outcrop of the dark blue mineral crystal that gave the area its name, handing around water bottles and sandwiches. Roxas sat sullenly, eating little, speaking less.

"For God's sake," Leon muttered. Roxas glanced up, to see the brown-haired man glaring at the clipboard he'd brought along. For the last ten minutes he'd been busy scribbling away at various sheets, but with the curse had stopped.

"Not the inventory again," Yuffie moaned. Leon nodded tightly.

Despite himself, Roxas asked, "What's up?"

"For the last four weeks, somebody's been going around stealing things from our worksites," Tifa explained, frowning. "Tools, materials, even plans – and no one can figure out who's doing it."

"Leon thinks he knows," murmured Cloud, a dark expression on his face, seated on a rock slightly apart from the others. He cut the brunet a sharp look. "Don't you, Leon?"

Leon refused to comment. The scowl dropped slowly from his face, evidently through force of will, as he continued with his figures. "Cloud," sighed Tifa, "no one thinks it's you."

"No one but Leon," the blond stubbornly insisted.

"Look, I haven't even accused you," Leon said, not glancing up.

"No, you just ask probing questions," the blond shot back. "Where I've been, what I've been doing, where I bought my new riding gloves, shit like that."

"A man can't be curious about his colleagues?" came the mild reply.

"I get it, okay?" Cloud snarled. "I turn up to join the Committee, two weeks later things start vanishing. I know how to connect dots, and I know you whipped out your crayon as fast as you could to do just that."

Leon held up his pen, waving it slightly, and responded, "I generally work with ball-points."

Roxas lifted his eyes to the bright blue sky and sighed. He drew his knees up to his chest, ignoring the rest of the argument, resting his chin on his forearm as he despondently finished his food. He tried to sum up mentally all the things he'd ever thought he'd be doing upon finally leaving Twilight Town, and for far too long came up blank. He supposed it wasn't even that he had grand dreams and plans, like travelling and drawing like Naminé – all he'd ever felt was this burning need to get out. He sort of understood that now – perhaps there was some part of him aware of the stagnancy of his situation, understanding, despite his lack of knowledge, that nothing was _ever _going to change.

Well, things had changed. He was in the real world, for the first time in thirteen years, apparently, and so far all he'd done was eat, sleep and work. Things weren't exactly panning out like he'd hoped. The way Axel had spoken… well, it was hard when Axel wasn't even around to make his promises come true, but none of this was what he'd expected. Axel hadn't mentioned other people, hadn't said about having a mean boss or a castle or a mutual dining area. Roxas had hoped that freedom meant exploring. _Road-buddies. _That suggested something adventurous, didn't it? That was what had sparked his hopes and imagination. And now… He lowered his gaze to the group, half of it bickering while the other half ate and either listened to or ignored the outbursts from Cloud and the frustratingly bland responses from Leon.

God, this was meant to continue for another week? Roxas frowned. Damn it, it wasn't his fault that Axel had acted the way he had – he didn't see why he should be stuck with a group of strangers breaking his fucking back in the sun. What exactly gave _anyone _the right to force him to do _anything? _Sure, he was new, and he didn't know a damn thing about this town, and didn't have any legitimate anything – but did that mean he was automatically under someone's thumb? Who did that DiZ guy think he was?

He just hoped Aerith was making good on her promise to get him out of this. This was fucking miserable.

-------

It was night by the time they returned to the castle – Roxas' first view of the hulking behemoth, squatting and sprawling at the same time, absolutely ugly. He wondered why on earth all these people were living up here, when the city was twinkling below like fairy-lights. Roxas wanted to be _there, _not up at this creepy place.

Cloud, Leon, Cid and Roxas all washed off in the depressingly communal showers. It was just like high school, except that Roxas felt humiliatingly substandard around bodies like the younger blond and brunet. At least in high school, you could find someone worse off than you – in here, it didn't really count when the one slightly worse-off was _only _worse-off because he was in his forties.

Afterwards, he had to climb back into his filthy clothes. "Can someone take me to Axel's room?" he asked wearily. Yuffie was summoned, and ten minutes later, he opened the door to the dim room, the lights thankfully shut off.

"It's time for your next massage," Yuffie said cheerily. Roxas fixed her with a glower.

"No," he said bluntly. Her expression dropped.

"Oh, but, you've gotta."

"No, Yuffie. I need to just get undressed and sleep for a while. Please get out."

"But – "

"For fuck's sake," Roxas exploded. "I'm sick and tired of looking at people and listening to people – I just _want _to be _alone. _I haven't seen Axel in fucking _ages, _and all I'd like to do is sleep this _horrible _fucking day off and hope that tomorrow I find myself somewhere I actually _want _to be. Is that so much to ask?!"

Yuffie looked stricken, backing away a couple of steps. "Well – okay, I guess. No big deal." Her voice was small. She opened the door again, letting the light from the hall spill in. A second later, she was gone, and Roxas had a throbbing knot of guilt to add to his list of woes. He blew out a sigh, hissing, "Fuck."

Shifting over to the bed, he peeled off his shirt and unbuckled his belt and jeans, letting the dirty clothes drop to the floor. He bundled them up and added them to the pile already existing at the foot of the bed. The feeling of stickiness hadn't quite subsided yet after the long, hot day, and the skin across his back was tightening with every hour, as the burn grew fiercer. Roxas fell into bed with a groan, every muscle aching from sheer exertion.

This wasn't how things were meant to be. Not even for a minute.

He curled up on top of the covers, already more than hot from the sunburn. He ran the fingers of one hand softly up and down the length of his calf, needing some sort of comfort, anything he could find, even if he had to give it to himself.

He shut his eyes, and thought of home. A bitter laugh wrested from his lips, jarring in the small space. The smell of Axel was becoming contaminated by his own scent, even after such a short amount of time. It had obviously been a couple nights since the redhead had graced the sheets. Roxas took a deep, slow breath, and concentrated on not crying.

The door cracked, letting in the light, his eyes shooting open, brows already fixed into a glare as he stared at the wall and grated, "Whoever it is, leave me alone. I just want to go to sleep. Please."

"…Roxie?"

Roxas let out a gasp, sitting up sharply, whirling around, ignoring the pain in his shoulders. "Jesus, Axel," he said, voice cracking. "Where the fuck have you been?"

The redhead slid the door shut, a finger to his lips, whispering, "Ssh. Yuffie snuck me in."

Roxas was confused. "What do you mean? This is your fucking _bed, _Axel!"

The redhead came to sit on the edge of the mattress, studying the blond in the darkness. "Yeah, but I'm not supposed to see you except at mealtimes. DiZ's idea of teaching me a lesson."

"So fucking what?" Roxas demanded. "Who the fuck does he think he _is? _The guy has me shifting fucking _rocks, _Axel – I'm not going to do it again. I'm a fucking _high schooler, _not a menial _fucking _labourer. If I wanted that kind of life, I could've stayed in the goddamn computer and taken up a _fucking _trade!"

"Roxie…" Axel had his arms folded on his knees, looking subdued, staring down at the floor. "I'm sorry. I'm really, really sorry. I didn't mean for it to turn out like this. I just…"

"I don't blame you." Roxas had his eyes shut, was bent over his lifted knees, hands clasped beneath them. "I understand what the guy's trying to do, but I don't get _why _he thinks this is okay, or why either of us even has to listen."

Axel smiled half-heartedly. "He's the one in charge of us. I mean, he takes care of us, gives us jobs that we want and food and shelter. He's not what you'd call a father-figure," he admitted, tipping his head to the side, "but hell, none of us is exactly searching for one, either."

"Why, though? Why's he in charge? Why can't we just go, Axel, and tell him to fuck his rules and stupid ideas of punishment?" When the redhead didn't respond, Roxas sighed, tucking his chin onto his knee-caps. "This isn't what I was expecting. I thought… I thought that for the first time, I was going to rule my own life. Go wherever I please… That sort of shit." He dropped his hands, scooting closer, making Axel look up. "You said you'd tell me everything. So tell me."

Axel shrugged, a little awkwardly. "I wasn't really planning to tonight. I just – wanted to come see you."

"Damn it, you're seeing me," Roxas snapped. "Why can't you talk while you're looking?"

"I didn't really want to just _look." _

Roxas closed his eyes. "All of this… You chose me, because you formed some – some infatuation with me before you even _knew _me, Axel."

"That's not true," said the redhead softly. "I knew you when we were kids. You don't remember because of the program, but it'll start coming back to you, the longer you're out here. Okay, so today's Hollow Bastion isn't what it was when we were little, but once you start seeing different places around here, you'll remember. You went into the system and I didn't, but I never forgot you, Roxie." He lifted his legs onto the bed, touching his knees to the blond's. "I remembered you, all the time. You were the coolest little fucker I'd ever laid eyes on, back then, now – it doesn't matter." He lowered himself, peered up into Roxas' down-turned face. "You're the whole reason I became a techie, did you know that?"

"I _didn't_ know that, Axel," Roxas replied tightly, keeping his chin down, "because I don't know anything about you. I don't even know what a techie is, or does."

"So I'll tell you," the redhead promised softly. "I'll tell you everything. But there's too much to say right now, and I feel like I'm going crazy – all this time I've spent wanting you in the real world, and now that you're finally here, I can't even be near you? I haven't even _seen _you since last night. I've been cleaning bathrooms all day, going out of my mind with worry." Roxas lifted his eyes, exhaustion in every crease of his face. Axel gently cupped him, thumbs settling against his cheekbones. "You're burnt," he observed unhappily. "I talked to Aerith; she's commandeering you for the rest of the week." He gave a crooked grin. "You've set off every mothering instinct the woman has." The smile became wistful, as he brushed a finger down the almost-peeling bridge of Roxas' nose, making him wince. "Must be that lost look in your eyes."

Roxas turned into his hand, almost against his will. Finally, Axel was here. He was tempted to be pissed with the redhead, but after all the energy he'd expended wishing they could just be together, he didn't want to waste this opportunity by being a brat. None of this was Axel's fault. Not really. Or at least, none of it was his intention.

"I think I hate DiZ," he mumbled into Axel's palm. The redhead chuckled.

"Join the club," he joked. "The guy's a genius, but we all hate his guts, except maybe Leon."

"All those people are out of their fucking minds, did you realise that?"

"What, the Committee? Duh." Axel rolled his eyes, shook his head. "We techies are far superior. The second this bullshit punishment is done with, I'm stealing you and training you up."

Roxas found himself smiling for the first time since the previous night. "Sounds good to me."

Axel leaned forward and kissed him, a slow, desperate gesture, every inch apologetic and hungry. His tongue came out to dance along Roxas' chapped lower lip. He pulled back. "Jesus, Rox, even your lips are burnt," he murmured huskily. Roxas, eyes shut, a sleepy expression on his face, merely nodded.

"Everything hurts," he confessed in a whisper. Axel's arms wrapped around him, easing him down onto the mattress. The redhead shifted around, pressing his back against the wall. He held the blond loosely, trying not to overheat him, gazing over at him with a queer combination of excitement and sorrow, all his emotions twisting together into a bewildering melange. "I can't believe this is happening to you," he muttered. "I want to fucking kill Naminé. I thought we were friends."

Roxas shrugged slowly. "You still are, I guess, just like I still want to be. She just… values the rules more than us." And yet, here they were, still at the mercy of them. Roxas' eyes opened, he stared at the ceiling. "How long are you staying?" he asked quietly.

"A couple hours." A warm breath fanned his ear. "No one will miss me."

Roxas nodded, turned carefully on his burn, tucking his stinging nose into Axel's chest. This was better. This was unadulterated Axel scent. Much nicer than the shadow ghosting the pillows. Roxas fell asleep with it, and didn't notice when Axel left.


	12. Chapter 12

**A/N: **Two things I've noticed: One, I'm getting crappily good at turning what ought to be a single-event scene into an entire goddamn chapter – my apologies in advance for that one – and two, I write a damn sight faster with the internet _off. _So, two things to work on – scene extension, internet usage. Both are to be reduced. :S

-------

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CHAPTER TWELVE

Yuffie's entrance the next day was noisy, her bickering voice mixing with a deeper male one in the hall as she slammed Axel's door open, frightening Roxas out of sleep with the bang.

"And I keep _telling _you, he's part of the Committee until further notice," the short-haired girl snapped. She smiled brightly at Roxas' wide blue eyes as he lay on his stomach, twisted in the covers of Axel's bed. "Morning, sleepy-head! Wow, is that your back, or did Aerith convince Leon to let her buy lobsters and hide one in your room?"

A second head poked in, a blond guy – was this planet of the blonds, or what? – and gasped, smothering his mouth with one hand. "What are you freaks doing to Axel's Roxie?" he demanded.

Axel's Roxie?

Yuffie rolled her eyes. "He's fine, Demyx, he's just developing a little tan."

"Oh, man, you wait til I tell Axel – he's gonna spaz out and set you all on fire…"

"Axel's seen it, dork-for-brains," Yuffie sighed, flicking his forehead. "I accidentally showed him in last night, and they made with the smoochies for a while."

"Aw, cute!"

"Excuse me?" Roxas started to sit, a pained expression on his face. "Do you mind? I'd rather you didn't stand there gossipping about what I may or may not have done with Axel last night."

"Gah, don't get up yet!" Yuffie bounced over, pushing him back down, carefully avoiding the worst of his burn. "I still have to give your next massage." She bent down to meet his gaze and said sternly, "And you're not getting out of it this time. You owe me big time for last night."

"Massage?" The blond, Demyx, stepped into the room, shaking his head incredulously. His hair style was… definitely different. Roxas couldn't help but stare. "Yuffie, if you touch his back he's going to scream. I swear to God, only _Axel's _allowed to make him – "

"_Do you mind?" _Roxas demanded loudly, heating up with a blush, eyes squeezing shut. "That is definitely none of your business. I don't even know you. Please don't talk about my non-existent sex-life with Axel."

"Non-existent? Really?" Yuffie seemed disappointed. "Well, what the hell were you guys _doing _last night?"

"Oh, my God," Roxas moaned into the pillow. "This conversation isn't happening."

"Allow me to introduce myself," the blond said happily, coming over and bending down, tilting his head to meet Roxas' angle. "I'm Demyx, Axel's friend. We're both techies, and I'm part of the Free Roxas Liberation Force. We're dedicated to getting you away from the crazy-ass Committee and getting you and Axel into bed together."

Roxas' eyes shot impossibly wide, his mouth coming off the pillow. "You _what? _Does _Axel _know about this?"

"You guys suck," Yuffie grumbled. "That doesn't even make a decent acronym."

"The acronym isn't important," Demyx glared over at her. "What's important is making Roxas happy, instead of letting him get forced into doing _your _job, which only _crazy _people want to do!" He smiled back down at Roxas. "And no, Axel doesn't know about it. It was just something I kind of made up. But I know several people who'll want to join!"

"Please, don't," Roxas begged. "I can't handle this. I barely even know Axel."

Demyx frowned, glanced over at Yuffie, who shrugged. "Oh, okay. Well, but… I mean, you do love him, though, right?"

Roxas fought the urge to start kicking his hands and feet in a tantrum. With a low groan, he said, "No, I don't _love _him. How can I love him when I barely _know _him? God." He buried his face again. "You're going to tell him I said that, aren't you?"

"Well…"

"No, he's not," Yuffie interrupted, glaring sharply at the taller blond. "It's pretty obvious what's going on here. Roxas _likes _Axel, but like he said, you can't _love _someone you don't know. It's different for Axel – he remembers the kid from way back." She slapped Demyx sharply around the back of the head. "So just shut up with your stupid non-acronym Force, and let Roxas and Axel sort it out for themselves." She lowered to peer pleadingly into the blond's blue eyes. "There, I totally stuck up for you – can I _now _give you a massage? I'm not even kidding, Roxas, it's really important. _Especially _after everything yesterday. I mean, come on, kid – can you even stand?"

Roxas was actually wondering the same thing. His every muscle ached, pulled tighter than a violin string. He felt pretty confident about crawling, but after that initial attempt to rise, he wasn't too sure about anything more ambitious. However, he also didn't feel like having his monstrous sunburn even breathed on, let alone touched.

"Can't you do it and not touch my back?"

Regretfully, she shook her head. "I'm sorry, kid, but that's the same as not doing it. This is really important to keep your circulation going strong, remind your body it knows how to do it all by itself. It'll just have to hurt."

Demyx glowered. "God, you Committee guys are assholes," he said coldly. "Didn't you even consider this might happen?"

"Look, I'm sorry, okay?" Yuffie cried over at him. "It's my fault, I'm aware of that, but there's really nothing to be done about that now."

Demyx cocked a finger at her. "I'm waiting in the hall, and when you're done, Roxas is sitting with us for breakfast. Axel gets him at mealtimes."

"Fine," she huffed. "But don't blame me if Leon comes over and tells Roxas off because you guys make him late."

"Fine!" Cheerfully, Demyx went out to wait, leaving Roxas to Yuffie's agonising ministrations. He sank his teeth into the pillow, and didn't let go for an hour, tongue scraping the material over and over until it turned numb. Whimpers escaped him from time to time, but Yuffie did her best to work around the worst sections.

"Man," she muttered towards the end, "did you want a bag to take all this peeled skin with you when you leave?"

Roxas released the pillow. "That's fucking gross," he complained.

"You're telling me!"

At last, they were done. Trembling, covered in a fine, sickly sheen of sweat, Roxas climbed to his feet, muscles sore but manageable. It was an improvement, but his back throbbed hideously, Yuffie's nails having scraped the burn countless times even despite her care. He went to the wardrobe and pulled out the lightest garment he could find, a pale blue t-shirt, pulling it gingerly over his red neck, feeling the dampness across his shoulders instantly latch into the fabric and start clinging. Heat radiated from his body, rolling up into his face, making him pale dizzily.

Yuffie watched, concerned, as he staggered pulling on his dirty jeans. "It's a damn good thing Aerith's grabbed you for today," she said worriedly. "You look like hell, kid." She grimaced guiltily. "It really was my fault. I was put in charge of you, after all. Shoulda been paying more attention."

"It's okay," Roxas said shortly, trying hard to curb his impatience. Irritability shivered through him. He bit it back with effort, aware that it was the burn affecting him. "I wasn't even near you while we were working."

She sighed and nodded, then went over to the door and yanked it open. Demyx just about fell through the sudden gap, a startled, sleepy expression on his face. "Fuck, Yuffie." He wiped his face hard. "I was totally having a cat-nap there."

"Not my problem!" she sang, skipping past. She turned, flapped Roxas a wave. "See you round, kid. If we don't speak at breakfast, I'll catch you at dinner!"

"You won't be speaking at breakfast," Demyx bellowed after her retreating back. "He's all Axel's!"

Faintly amused, Roxas stepped out, finishing the buckle on his belt. "I'm all Axel's?"

"Well, _yeah," _Demyx snorted, rolling his eyes. "Maybe you're having emotional issues or whatever, but Axel's crazy about you!" He pulled the door shut, and hooked an arm around Roxas' shoulders, yelping and withdrawing almost instantly from the sweltering shirt. A frown creasing his face, humour dissipating, he asked, "How much water have you had to drink?"

"Uh… I had some yesterday in the Fissure."

"You need to have more, very soon," the blond replied firmly, instead taking hold of Roxas' arm and steering him in Yuffie's wake. "You're burning up. If we don't re-hydrate you, you'll end up getting sick."

Roxas struggled for something to say to this perfect stranger. "So, uh, you and Axel are friends?" he ended up settling on lamely. Demyx smiled brightly, nodded.

"We sure are. Ever since we were kids."

Roxas' interest was aroused. "Really? So that means, you didn't go into the – the program, either?"

The blond shook his head, turned them down a left-side corridor. "Nope, not me. I became a technician so I could monitor all the people who were put into Twilight Town." He smiled, a little sadly, at Roxas. "It was the only way back then for people like me and Axel to keep an eye on people like you. My boyfriend, Zexion, has been out for nearly a year."

Roxas frowned, they turned right. "Is it just me, or does everyone end up getting together with the person that took them out?"

Demyx laughed, delightedly. "But, see, that's the attachment! It's so freaking awesome, I love it! Sora took out Riku, I took out Zexy, Axel took out _you…" _Demyx gave him a sly, flashing look.

"What about the girls?" Roxas wondered, studiously ignoring the insinuation, eyes fixed determinedly forward. "Does the whole… taking out process turn people gay, or what?"

Demyx laughed again. "You'd think so, wouldn't you? But no – my friend Larxene got out my other friend Naminé, and Sora got out Axel's sister Kairi, and they spend half their time pretending to cry because all the sexy boys are making out with other sexy boys." Roxas couldn't help but chuckle. "But," Demyx conceded thoughtfully, "Sora did get out Riku first, so maybe that's why he and Kairi didn't end up together… maybe it only works the first time…" He frowned to himself. "But then that would mean Nam and Larx were together…" He shrugged suddenly, dismissing it all. Roxas studied him with new amusement. No one in Twilight Town had ever been like the people he'd met so far. People like Axel and Demyx, who had been living in the real world their entire lives, were almost fascinating with their differences, their loudness, their quirks. They were the product of a far more open society than anything Roxas had encountered, which was curious, considering that it had been people from this world who had built that whole town to begin with.

He frowned thoughtfully. "Demyx – why was I put into Twilight Town but you and Axel weren't? Why was _anyone _put into Twilight Town? Come to think of it – why was a simulation town built in the first place?"

Demyx tilted his head to the side. "Hmm. Well, there's a long story, there's a short story, and then there's the story Axel made me swear to let him tell you." He adopted a mournful expression. "He won't let me tell you anything."

Anger stirred. "Why?" Roxas demanded.

Demyx swivelled his head, giving the shorter boy a gentle look. "Because, he wants to be the one to share it all with you, Roxas. He promised to tell you, and he's going to." He patted the boy's arm, adding, "Don't worry, you'll know everything eventually. It's not that great, not that exciting, and to be honest, not necessarily very nice, but I know how you kids these days get with your questions."

Roxas rolled his eyes. "How old are you, anyway?"

"Twenty-one," he answered proudly. "Same as Axel."

Roxas jerked to a halt, nearly pulling Demyx over as the blond tried to keep moving. "Axel's twenty-one?" he asked loudly, eyes wide. "He told me he was eighteen!"

"Ah." Demyx smiled nervously. "Well, did he? Or did you just assume it? He did pretend to be a senior to get closer to you and all, but…"

"Why did he even have to get close to me at all?" Roxas demanded, letting the older boy go. He crossed his arms, glaring. "I don't get it. All that shit with convincing me to leave – those weird wonders… Hell, it's all just an overgrown videogame anyway, so what exactly was all that _about?"_

"It's… a conditioning process," Demyx answered in a small voice. "But, seriously, Axel wants to tell you – "

"Axel's not here." Roxas scowled. "You are. I want to know the truth about everything, and I'm sick of waiting for a time that's just _convenient."_

"We – we're on our way to breakfast right _now…"_

Roxas' blue eyes narrowed, before he nodded sharply. "Fine. Take me to him, then."

Doing a bad job of hiding his relief, Demyx meekly led the rest of the way to the dining hall. As they entered the naturally lit room, the older blond burst into a sunny smile and surged away from Roxas' side. Halfway across the hall, he hurled himself into the arms of a tall, thin man with blue-silver hair covering one half of his face. Roxas caught sight of a slight smile on the man's face, his arms moving to automatically wrap around the excitable other. That must be the Zexion he mentioned, then.

A little of Roxas' anger drained away in that moment, seeing the two together. Demyx said Zexion had been out for nearly a year, and he was looking okay. He obviously knew all there was to know, and was happy with Demyx – is that how Roxas would be in a year's time? He might have been clueless and in pain right now, but wouldn't it all be worth it if in a few months he could run into this room and throw himself joyfully at Axel, and be received?

Not that he was the type to run and throw himself around. And – and not at Axel, necessarily, or – or anyone, but, well… He felt himself blushing, tried to keep the cringing thoughts away. If anyone ever had the slightest idea of what went on in his head, he'd never get a moment's peace. Not with Axel the way he was, and Demyx threatening to form a Free Roxas Liberation Force with the goal of getting them into _bed _together…

God, this morning was turning out to be painful.

He caught a glimpse of red out of the corner of his eye, and twisted automatically. The smile that broke out was completely against his will, traitorous emotions and hormones insisting that the face coming towards him was precisely all he needed to make everything better again. Axel smiled fondly down at him, enfolded him instantly in his arms, startling and embarrassing the blond, whose eyes flicked around the busy room. "Um, nice to see you, too," he said, "but, uh, PDA much?"

"Oh, Roxie, you think a hug is PDA?" Axel grinned, drawing back to pinch his cheek. "That is so insanely cute and innocent. By the time _I'm _done with you, you'll barely think dry-humping on Aerith's stove counts as PDA."

Roxas' mouth flew open as he shoved the redhead away. "Axel, you freaking pervert!"

Heads swung around at the cry, a few chuckles travelling through the room. Demyx had twisted, grinning, his boyfriend smirking, but none could smile quite as broadly as Axel in that moment. He allowed himself to be pushed, swaying, then coming back and planting a quick kiss on the blond's forehead before he could protest. Scowling, Roxas wiped it off, but his skin continued to tingle in sync with the butterflies that had erupted in his gut the instant the redhead's lips had touched him.

Unperturbed by Roxas' attitude, Axel took him by the elbow and steered him over to the same table that Demyx and Zexion were converging on. Already seated there were a man in his early-thirties, idly shuffling a deck of cards with one hand while the other calmly spooned cereal into his mouth, and a blonde girl with short, slicked-back hair, watching the older man's motions with a squinted eye. She was shredding a napkin methodically into strips, laying them flat on the table, her own bowl emptied and sitting to one side.

They both glanced up at the sudden influx of people, their gazes settling almost simultaneously on the new face with interest. "Morning boys," Axel chirped, tugging Roxas to sit beside him. The girl flipped him off with a scowl, before returning to tearing the napkin. The man nodded, mumbling incoherently through his cereal.

"Roxie, allow me to introduce you to these fine friends of mine." Axel pointed to the girl, his other hand resting on the boy's shoulder, thumb moving almost unconsciously up and down the bare skin under the short sleeve. "This lovely creature sitting here is the oft-mentioned sylph, Larxene. She is charming in every aspect of her prodigiously generous nature."

"Axel, do the world a favour and go fuck yourself," she replied in bored tones, not raising her eyes from her work. "I'd say to get your boyfriend there to do it for you, but he's screaming virgin vibes, so I won't bother."

Axel coughed, while Roxas turned a steady shade of rose, eyes squeezing shut. "Why is everyone trying to kill me with embarrassment today?" he asked the air.

"Don't worry, me and Zexy will protect you," Demyx sang, clinging to his boyfriend as they sat. "Larxene, don't be a bitch!"

The girl shrugged, snorted, and started rolling the strips of soft paper into little balls, lining them up carefully like artillery.

Axel cleared his throat loudly, shooting Roxas an apologetic glance. "And, uh, that's Zexion over by Dem, they're slightly sickening together in a way I hope you and I can be someday…" Roxas dropped his head against the table, moaning to himself. Clearly losing confidence, Axel moved right along. "And over there is Luxord, our resident gambling addict."

"It's not an addiction, you fucking pyro," the man stated mildly, his accent reminiscent of DiZ's, only softer and less asshole-ish. Roxas was beginning to feel a tug of déja-vu, could picture Cloud sulkily claiming he wasn't anorexic. It seemed it wasn't limited just to the Restoration Committee, then; this kind of madness was evidently catching, and Roxas was curious as to how long he'd last against it.

"Tell me, Roxas, have you ever played poker?" Luxord asked. The blond lifted his head wearily, shook his head weakly. A glint appeared in the man's light blue eyes. "I see. This situation must be rectified, as soon as possible."

"Axie's on probation," Larxene reminded him, a saccharine-sweet tone to her voice that made Roxas wonder how Axel could call her a friend. The redhead threw her a glare.

"It's only for a week."

"A week is such a long time, though, isn't it?" she sighed, picking up one of the balls and rolling it quickly between her thumb and forefinger. "Poor Axel, a whole week. There's today, and tomorrow, and the next day, and the _next day – "_

"Larxene is, if you hadn't already noticed, our resident bitch," Zexion offered dryly from Demyx's left. The slender man had obviously already organised their food in advance, and the two were eating one handed, the hands between them twisted together under the table.

"I'm sure he's realised," Axel answered, with a caustic glance at the girl. He turned to Roxas. "You hungry? I'll get you something to eat." He looked so eager, that Roxas couldn't bear to say no – this was obviously giving Axel a lot of pleasure.

Roxas opened his mouth to agree, then suddenly blurted, "Holy crap! What the fuck happened to your eyes?"

Axel blinked, pulling back slightly, reaching up to touch the corners of his eyes, startled. "What? What's wrong?"

"Not there!" Roxas reached, hesitated, ran his fingers softly over the skin beneath each burning green eye, at the peaks of his cheekbones. He noticed Axel's slight shiver at the touch, ignored it in favour of his concern. "There's these – these red marks… Hang on." He licked his thumb, then wiped at the marks. Axel shuddered again, eyelids slipping shut, an intense look drifting over his features, making Roxas pause, torn between uncertainty and the part of his brain that found Axel's face hardened like that unbelievably hot. "Um. It's not coming off."

The rest of the table watched, puzzled, before Demyx burst into sudden laughter. "It's your tattoos!"

Axel blinked, slightly dazed. "Huh?" Roxas drew back, cheeks red beneath the sunburn.

"You have – tattoos?" he asked, confused. "Since when?"

"Oh!" The redhead came back to himself with a slight shake. "Right. Uh, yep, I'm a rebel." He dragged two fingers along the twin tattoos, narrow upside-down triangles. "I got these babies a couple years back. They, uh, didn't translate over into Twilight Town. I wasn't allowed to keep them, because Kairi thought they'd make me look too… tough or something."

Roxas felt a laugh bubble up. "And I wouldn't want to hang out with you if I thought you were some kind of tough guy, right?"

Axel shrugged. "Maybe. After all, you did spend your life growing up in a secluded, goodie-goodie town where kids can't even elope further than the beach."

"Yeah, but that doesn't mean they're all mindless robots," Roxas scoffed. "I mean, look at Seifer – he's an asshole."

"Yeah, but we weren't looking at that guy – we were looking at you, and all your friends, well – they're pretty front, centre and straight, you know?" He demonstrated with his hands, rolled a shoulder uncomfortably. "Not that they weren't cool people, but I can't exactly see Hayner hanging out with a tatt-encrusted guy."

"You're not encrusted, there's just two of them," Roxas argued. "I wouldn't have rejected you over that. If you'll remember, Hayner didn't want to hang with you at _all." _

"I didn't want to risk it," the redhead murmured, eyes averted. "I mean, now I know better, but before I went in, I didn't even really know _what _you were gonna think of me…"

Roxas fell silent, blinking a couple of times in surprise. He… hadn't really thought about that side of things. Ever since he got out, he'd just really focused on what it all meant for _him… _He knew what Axel hoped to get out of the extraction, or whatever they wanted to call it, but – well – Roxas already had ample evidence of Axel's feelings for him long before the blond even knew he existed… He hadn't really imagined that, while he struggled with his growing attraction to the redhead, Axel had been desperately hoping that there was something there between them.

"Huh." Roxas laughed slightly, through a frown. "No wonder you were so tolerant of me… What – did you think when I was such an asshole to you that first night? Were you disappointed?"

Axel smiled suddenly. An anxious expression had been slowly creeping over his features as he watched the blond thinking, but it vanished completely in the face of Roxas' question. "You know, we have ways of monitoring the inside of Twilight Town from out here. I told you I'd been watching you, Roxie – so I already knew that you weren't that bad. I just hoped you'd, you know, give me a chance." He grinned. "And you did."

Demyx was obviously some kind of desperate romantic, judging from the misty look in his eyes as he watched the mini-drama unfold. Luxord was ignoring them, Zexion deliberately not looking, while Larxene had a faint sneer in place as she continued to roll the balls of paper tighter and firmer.

Roxas' eyes narrowed with sudden suspicion. "Exactly how often, when, and _where _did you watch me, Axel?"

Larxene cackled, momentarily forgetting her task to lean back and pound the table. Axel's head whipped to the side, a faintly frantic expression as he called, "What was that, Kairi? Of course I'm getting Roxie some food! Yes, I'll do it right now!" The redhead leapt from his seat, nearly tripping over it as he didn't quite lift his foot high enough. Zexion grabbed it as it began to topple, while Axel very quickly vacated the immediate area.

As Roxas caught his head in his hands, he heard someone sigh loudly nearby, an affectionate, exasperated noise. He cautiously peeked out with one eye, wondering who had come to compound his misery. He saw the pink-clad girl from yesterday, Naminé's friend, tapping her foot, hands on hips, mouth twisted in amusement as she watched Axel stumble across to the other side of the dining hall. "You know," she said conversationally to Roxas, "that would have worked a lot better if I hadn't been standing on the absolute opposite side of the room." She smiled warmly down at him, touching her fingers to her chest as she added, "I'm Kairi, his long-suffering sister. It's a pleasure to finally meet you, Roxas."

Roxas brightened, straightened. "You're Kairi?" He tilted his head, looking thoughtful. "You seem familiar…"

"Hah! You remember me but not Riku? Oh, I'll have to remember to rub that in his face," she grinned. "Sora got me out a little while after him, but yes, I was in Twilight Town as well. And before you ask – " She held up a hand, forestalling his next question. "I was put into the program, and Axel wasn't, because I was younger. He was only eight at the time, but he managed to make himself useful enough to keep free." She shrugged helplessly. "Being the tiny toddler I was, there was really nothing either of us could do to keep me out, except hide me away from the soldiers, and it didn't really make sense to try."

Roxas leaned forward slightly. "Soldiers? What's up with this talk of a war? Was there _really _a war?"

"No, we just enjoy making shit up," Larxene responded sarcastically. She plucked up one well-formed ball and flicked it at Luxord's shuffling hand, hard enough to make him glare.

Kairi rolled her eyes. "Anyway, I just wanted to come introduce myself, Roxas. It's great to finally meet you."

Roxas smiled. "Same here."

The girl opened her mouth to say more, but was abruptly distracted. Roxas turned in his chair to see Leon approaching, a stoic expression in place, his eyes fixed on the blond. Roxas barely managed to hold back the groan that fought to be free of his throat, head dropping slightly. "Hi, Leon," Kairi breathed once he was close enough. He flicked her a disinterested glance.

"Hi." His attention shifted to Roxas, gaze slipping down to the table, an eyebrow raising. "You haven't eaten yet?" He shook his head. "You're lucky you're with Aerith today; we're setting out now, and if you weren't ready you'd have had to work anyway."

Roxas scowled. "It's a good thing I _am_ with her, then."

"Very," Leon agreed tonelessly. "She'll be ready to leave in ten minutes, you'll be going shopping in the city. Do me a favour, don't let her buy too many flowers. She blows her budget every time, and this is the first chance I have to send someone who might be able to dissuade her." He frowned suddenly. "Last time I asked Cloud to, she ended up buying more."

"Maybe she didn't feel like being under your thumb," Larxene sneered, ignored utterly by the brunet.

"Can you try?" he asked.

Uncertainly, Roxas answered, "Yeah…"

He nodded once, briefly. "That's all I ask."

Axel returned, scowling, a bowl of cereal and a plate of toast in hand. "What do you want, Committee? Roxie's sitting with _me."_

"No doubt the reason he's isn't ready on time," Leon replied dryly. "I've said what I had to say, he's all yours." The man left, returning to his own table, a collection of frowns directed at his back. Kairi was looking after him dreamily.

"There's about a two-percent chance that man isn't gay; that's like a dream come true, for me."

"Kairi, take your man-whoring elsewhere," Axel grumbled, sitting down next to Roxas and setting the two dishes up in front of the blond. "Roxie doesn't need to hear about what a catch Leon is."

She grabbed one of his long spikes, tugged playfully. "Jealous?"

"Of course not," replied Axel disdainfully. "The only time that man will ever have someone's dick up his ass is if he pulls the gigantic stick out first. In other words, never."

"Whoever said he'd be taking it? Having a stick jammed up his ass doesn't mean he can't fuck someone else," Demyx chipped in brightly. Zexion dipped his head, shook it, and patted Demyx's shoulder in a 'shut up, dear' fashion. Axel was glowering.

"Well, he's not fucking Roxas."

"Please! God!" Roxas clapped his hands over his ears, saying shrilly, "What is it with people and this fascination with me fucking men?"

"Which people?" Axel frowned.

Demyx winked across the table. "It's coz you're so _cute, _Rox. I bet you turn the straight guys around."

"Okay, so, this conversation was fun, but now it's _over," _Axel said loudly. "Roxas, eat your breakfast."

Glad to oblige, Roxas starting munching his cereal in earnest. Axel drew possessive circles on his upper arm, glaring occasionally at Demyx, who simpered back. Every now and then Roxas tried to twitch away, but only half-heartedly. After all, breakfast time was counting down – Aerith would come soon, and he'd have to leave Axel until the next mealtime. As painful as this meal had become, he didn't want to be separated again from the redhead.

Eventually, the food was eaten, though, and Aerith came for him. There wasn't anything they could do about this, apparently – DiZ's word appeared to be law around the castle, the way everyone acted and talked about him. And… it was only a week. Not all _that _long.

As Aerith stood by, a large basket in her hands, smiling patiently, the blue eyes met the green, and for a moment, they wavered. The other technicians were getting up, a pile of white napkin-balls scattered at Luxord's place, the Restoration Committee already long-gone, the dining hall emptying fast with what appeared to be the official end of breakfast.

"Don't wanna leave you," Axel said quietly, once Demyx and Zexion had vacated. Roxas shook his head, agreeing. Both knew it was only a matter of hours until the next meal. To remind themselves out loud would have been superfluous, unnecessary. So instead, Roxas moments later found himself inside another of Axel's tight embraces, his long fingers taking care to avoid the burns, not quite succeeding, but the blond really didn't give a damn. Roxas returned the gesture, holding Axel loosely around the middle.

"This is beginning to suck big time," Roxas informed him, resting his cheek on the other's shoulder. He felt Axel's chuckle.

"Yeah, it is." He drew back, drawing a hand through the blond spikes. "Sorry about my friends. They can get a little weird."

Roxas smiled crookedly, shaking his head. "Hey, they're real, aren't they? That's better than my track record."

As soon as he said it, he felt a pang of regret, felt like a bastard. After all, Hayner, Pence and Olette were no less real than he was – just… more content to remain in unreality. Axel saw him darken, kissed him lightly, ignoring the squirm of embarrassment the blond gave, blue eyes darting over to where Aerith tactfully gazed elsewhere, humming under her breath. "I'll see you later," he murmured, pulling back and resting his forehead against Roxas'.

Roxas swallowed and nodded. "Later," he agreed. He added sharply, "I expect some explanations then, too."

Axel released him with a reluctant exhalation, sitting back and studying him for a long moment, before climbing slowly to his feet. "Aerith, take good care of my Roxie, okay?"

She turned to them, smiling. "Of course. I won't let him out of my sight."

Axel nodded, glancing over at the blond. "Just… he's cute. Don't let anyone try anything. And – "

"Axel, you should go," she told him, shaking her head good-naturedly. "He's not going to leave his seat until you're out of the room. And no one will hurt him, I swear it. I'll protect him with everything I have."

Axel grimaced, sighed. He went back to Roxas, kissed his hair. "Be careful, damn it. This is your first trip to a real city. Don't for God's sake lose sight of Aerith, or I'll hunt you down and molest you."

Roxas chuckled. "You do that anyway."

"Yeah, well, I'll molest you like I _mean _it," the redhead warned, eyebrows rising. "And that's a lot messier than the molestations you've had so far."

Aerith cleared her throat tactfully, sending Axel a meaningful look. He rolled his eyes, tilted Roxas' chin back and kissed his mouth again. "I find it very difficult to not do this all day, do you know that?" he muttered.

"I – have an idea," Roxas replied a little breathlessly.

"Buy some aloe for those burns. Aerith knows where to look."

"Axel, you should go," Roxas said, echoing the brunette's previous words, albeit more unwillingly. Axel huffed.

"I'm going, jeeze. This is me going, okay?" He straightened, gave Roxas, and then Aerith, one last hard look. Then he turned his back on them and left the dining hall, not glancing back. Aerith sighed.

"Come on, Roxas." She smiled kindly. "Maybe we can buy him some flowers in town, hm?"


	13. Chapter 13

**A/N: **There's some rather useless and irritating rhetoric going on mid-chapter which I couldn't quite find a way to fix, so apologies for that. It picks up after that, because I got the most awesome review for Water, and it inspired me to stop being slack and focus. Focus was a definite issue today :S I really don't do day-to-day stuff well, and I've doomed myself to providing a week's worth before Axel can take Roxas and start him in the techie department. So do be patient with me :( Pleeeeease.

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CHAPTER THIRTEEN

It was a long walk down to the city, with no mode of transportation available to the inhabitants of the castle except for the wicked-looking bike that Aerith informed Roxas was Cloud's. Apparently well-aware of the consequences of bad sunburn, she had asked Roxas how much water he'd been drinking, just like Demyx, then handed over a two-gallon bottle and ordered him to finish it before they reached the Crystal Fissure.

They passed the fissure without seeing the rest of the Committee, continuing down the steady dirt road. It took an hour to walk the whole way, before reaching the outer limits of Hollow Bastion proper. The air grew denser, unusual scents edging the breeze threading out. The walls became sheets of metal and mesh against the rocky walls of the crags, some of the less firm ground boarded over, Roxas' and Aerith's shoes making a din as they crossed it.

"That's the Bailey up ahead," Aerith told him in her soft voice. "It's where the city gate is. Once we're through there, we enter a residential district. Right in the middle is the market district, where we're heading."

Roxas nodded, concentrating on his footing, and the second large bottle of water Aerith had forced into his hands to help keep his core temperature down. Aerith watched him as they walked, the basket bouncing against her thighs with each step. "So, Roxas," she said, as the road levelled out, allowing the teen to catch his breath. "How are you holding up, anyway?"

Roxas glanced over, wiping his forehead with the cool bottle, fluid inside sloshing back and forth. "Uh?"

"Well… are you missing your family yet? Your Twilight Town friends?"

Roxas' pace slowed. Under her gentle green gaze, he considered her question, and found his reaction lacking. He judged himself harshly. "I – I'm okay," he mumbled. She nodded.

"That's good, then. It's natural to get caught up in the rush of a new life, easy. Just don't be surprised if one night," she smiled sadly, "you wake up calling for your mother."

Roxas shot her a disconcerted look. "My mom…?"

Now that he thought about it, yeah – yeah, maybe he missed them a little. It was only normal, right? But – he didn't miss them _enough. _He felt like… a jerk. A bad son, bad friend, everything. He was only glad he'd been an only-child – at least he was spared the extra burden of being a bad sibling as well.

"A lot of people from the Twilight Children program are just so relieved to be free that it can take a couple of weeks for the reality to kick in," she continued, watching him knowingly, the guilty droop of his features.

"Why – why do you call it that?" Roxas asked, eyes elsewhere, an anxious stutter to his voice that begged her to let him be. She acquiesced, swinging the basket down to her side, head tipped to the side.

"You mean, the Twilight Children program? It's the name of the network you were in. Your Twilight Town was made to be an elaborate day-care centre for the war-orphans of Hollow Bastion."

Roxas blinked over at her, clutching the water to his chest. "It – what?"

She raised her eyebrows in surprise. "Hasn't anyone told you yet?"

He shook his head, lips pressed thin. "Axel's been trying to find a good time. We haven't really had a lot of alone time for this sort of – discussion."

"Oh, I'm sorry," she said genuinely, touching his arm. "I didn't mean to spring it on you like that. I should have realised when you asked…"

He shook his head firmly. "No – it… it's cool. Forget it. I can just ask Axel tonight."

She nodded uncertainly, withdrawing her hand. "If you're sure…"

They entered the Bailey, trailing dust along the stone floors. The gate was open wide, and they passed through, mounting steps into the city itself. A high wall ran along their right side, a series of longer stairs running alongside the walkway they traversed. Aerith led him around and down into a cobbled street. Large houses sprang up on all sides, the design different to anything Roxas had ever seen. He looked about in wonder, at the higgledy-piggledy arrangement, everything ordered but messy, much like the architecture of the castle.

Aerith led him confidently through the long streets, past the strangers that walked and milled, the children that ran and danced and stood dutifully by their parents, all of them young, the oldest Roxas saw being around ten years of age. Up until they reached the market district, the blond couldn't see much difference between Twilight Town and Hollow Bastion, aside from the aesthetics. Then the noise began to grow in his ears, at first distant, then all-too-close, a cacophony, his first indication that they were approaching new territory – then, they left one road, turning a corner, and Roxas was lost.

The sounds, the smells, the taste of the _air _changed, more people than he had seen in his life gathered, vehicles everywhere, all in a glorious, bewildering, sickening mess.

There was no way that Roxas would be going back to the castle tonight with anything more than the vaguest images in his head, an overall impression, his senses overloaded by all he had never even known to exist.

His heart leapt into his throat, breaths quickening. Apparently expecting a sharp reaction, Aerith was sure to remain close, within brushing distance, her bright, sympathetic eyes fixed carefully upon his tightened features. "We're heading to the farmer's market first," she said, managing to make her voice carry easily. "I need to order the next month's food supplies." She smiled sweetly at his dazed expression, placed a hand on his elbow. "It's alright, Roxas – it's only like this because of the market. It happens bi-monthly, and everyone comes for the bargains."

The blond nodded distractedly. He clung to the woman's dress as she plunged into the fray, stumbling slightly every now and then. He'd always known there was a bigger world out there than his one small town, but hell, he'd never imagined he'd feel like a hick once he got there. He was like a starry-eyed little boy, except the stars were caused more by terror than wonder, and he wasn't so little.

He kept Axel in mind, concentrated on not getting a blood nose and freaking out from the lack of personal space. Aerith had no trouble moving through the crowds, weaving with quiet grace, managing to never be jostled. Roxas tried to mimic her untouchable motions, tried to slide through the gaps.

They made it into the market without undue trouble, and Aerith spent the next hour trailing a stunned Roxas from stall to stall, placing orders and chatting gaily. At last, she pulled him into a quieter road, somewhere he could hear his own thoughts. He released Aerith's skirt, playing nervously with his fingers as they passed several shopfronts.

"Are you okay?" she asked. He nodded, forced a smile. She patted his shoulder. "You'll get used to it. I don't even notice."

Roxas doubted he'd ever get to the point where he didn't notice the enormous jumble of humanity with seemingly similar, single-minded intent to eradicate his shins in every way possible. Seriously, they were aching like a bitch. He hadn't been kicked so often in his life, not even fifth grade.

Aerith chose a shop, entered, made nice with the man behind the till, ordering this and that to be sent to the castle. Everyone seemed to know her well, they all obviously adored her. There wasn't a face in the city that hadn't welcomed her.

As she waded through the small talk, Roxas wandered over to the large display window, peering out cautiously, hands jammed into his pockets. The sea of people didn't cease, continued to swim past in invisible currents. He thought he caught a glimpse of Riku, saw a flash of silver hair, but when he paid attention, there was nothing there. Perhaps he and Sora were somewhere around town?

Aerith completed her tasks, called to him as she left. He hurried to catch up, fighting the urge to grab onto her again. He had to get better at this. After all – this was his new home. Right?

Aerith led him further from the business district, back into the quieter residential sections. Roxas started seeing signs of destruction, old, a collapsed building here and there that passers-by didn't take heed of. He noticed a sudden build-up of people in uniforms, green cloth, bright metal.

He lowered his face to hover near Aerith's ear, asking uncertainly, "Are those – soldiers?"

She blinked, glanced to where he was looking, smiled slightly and nodded. "Yes, Roxas. They're here from Zanarkand. It's nothing to worry about, they won't hurt us."

"Zanarkand?" Roxas remembered the picture, as yet uncoloured. "Why are there soldiers from there? Is it close by? Or is this to do with that war everyone keeps mentioning?"

"The war," she conceded calmly. "Fifteen years ago, Zanarkand declared war on the country of Ivalice. Hollow Bastion was a neutral city, which is why we were hit so hard – neutrality was frowned upon, by both sides."

Roxas glanced around, eyebrows raised. "It doesn't _look_ like you were hit that hard," he observed. "I mean, it's been a while, but I wouldn't have known if no one told me."

"You're in the rebuilt area," she told him. "This is what the Restoration Committee has achieved in the last twelve years – Hollow Bastion…" She sighed. "It came very close to becoming a big pile of rubble."

"And…" Roxas watched one soldier pass, remembered the flashes of green he had seen in the marketplace. "They did all this?"

"Zanarkand and Ivalice together did all this and more," she said. "But we're at peace now, which is what matters. The soldiers are just to make sure no rebellions take place, but really, everyone's had their fill of war." She shrugged. "Things aren't so different, with DiZ around. He has protected the town the best that he could."

Roxas frowned. No wonder people deferred to DiZ, if he was the reason that everything was still standing. He was an asshole, but a useful one, it appeared.

The rest of the shopping trip passed without incident, Roxas' eyes suddenly picking up the soldiers he hadn't previously noticed, not everywhere, not constant, but present, always present.

In the end, Roxas couldn't talk Aerith out of buying flowers. She filled her basket happily, and he just didn't have the heart to bring Leon's request into it. She was such a beautiful person, and so giving – Roxas figured that if flowers kept her this way, it was the least Leon could do. She made sure to slip in an extra bunch for Axel, despite Roxas' protests.

As they were finally leaving the city again, Roxas' senses filled to overflowing, exhaustion leaking through his eyes and muscles, sunburn aching dully against his shirt, Aerith gave him a curious glance. "Tell me about you and Axel," she commanded.

Roxas blinked wearily, rubbing the dust from his eyes. "What?"

"You and Axel," she repeated. She fingered the lilies she had chosen for the redhead, poking from the top of the basket.

Disconcerted, Roxas shrugged. "What's to tell?"

She smiled, rolling her eyes slightly. "Well, for starters, you can tell me how you met."

"Well… I mean, we met in Twilight Town," Roxas said, uncomfortably. "What exactly did you want to hear?"

She tipped her head forward, eyes narrowing as she thoughtfully studied him. "I'm just curious, I guess. You two seem like such a cute couple."

Roxas spluttered. "A couple? Me and Axel?"

She frowned in slightly incredulity. "Well – yes, obviously. _Aren't _you a couple?"

Roxas thought back to breakfast, and blushed. Yes, they'd kissed, and hugged, and – and Axel kept touching him and he liked it, and… But he'd never thought of them in – in Demyx-and-_Zexion _terms. Not like as in, _together. _Okay, so he wasn't as happy when they were apart, and – and Axel really, really lit things up, but…

Axel was in _love _with him.

Roxas was… attracted to Axel. Liked him a lot.

Could he be with someone in what was virtually an unrequited relationship, based on the contrast between them?

"We – we're friends," he mumbled, scraping some sand from his eye as they started back up the steep hill.

Aerith looked suddenly torn between sympathy, and looking deeply unimpressed. "If you're friends," she said gently, "why do you kiss him?"

His eyes slid shut, he massaged his forehead. "Because."

"I see," she said slowly. She let the subject drop. How was it that Aerith made him feel like the world's biggest ass without even trying? All she had to do was ask a couple questions, and Roxas was left to flounder in his own indecision and lack of heart.

They returned to the castle by mid-afternoon, too late for lunch, which meant he'd have to wait until dinnertime to see Axel again. He was frustrated with himself – surely, considering how much he desired the company of the redhead, this meant that he had some real, actual feelings for him? As if those three days spent losing his mind with worry back in Twilight Town weren't proof enough.

_Friends? _They weren't _just _friends. They couldn't be, there was too much in the air between them. But – Roxas was cautious. He had to introduce _some _restraint into this pairing, didn't he?

Aerith gave Roxas the rest of the day to himself, a luxury. He used it to try and get some much-needed sleep, stripping off to his boxers and flopping down onto the bed – _Axel's _bed, the bed that Axel no doubt wanted to _share _with him.

He was beginning to regret the time spent with Aerith. She was like – some – walking _conscience, _or something. First asking about his family and friends, then Axel… Was Roxas supposed to be feeling more than he did? Was he not feeling enough?

It wasn't fair, he decided angrily, turning onto his back, ignoring the sting of the burn. Everyone expected him to leap into the redhead's arms and declare some kind of eternal love, but, damn it – wasn't it enough that he _really, really _liked him? He was a guy, the first guy Roxas had ever been attracted to. Roxas had known him for _two weeks. _It was like, just because of the force of Axel's feelings, which had had _years _to develop from the sounds of it, he was expected to just – just reciprocate without question.

He couldn't _do _that.

He could enjoy Axel's company, he could feel flutters in his stomach, he could love kissing the guy, but for God's sake, why couldn't he do it in his own _time? _What was with the goddamn _pressure?_

Too busy angsting, head buried into the pillow to try and smother away the thoughts conflicting his feelings, Roxas didn't notice when the door swung open. Axel entered, peeling off his shirt with a hiss, cursing under his breath. He kicked the door shut, balled up the material, threw it into the corner of the room. "Motherfucker," he muttered, brushing at his chest. He went to the wardrobe, yanked it open, glared at its innards.

Roxas, on the bed, froze. He lifted his head sharply, saw the bare skin of the hunched shoulders, the curve of the back. "A-Axel?"

Axel fell forwards, banged his knee, growled, _"Fuck me!" _He pushed back out, clutching the doors, eyes wild, hair a mess. "What the – _Roxas?" _He shifted away from the wardrobe, hands on hips, coming over to the bed. "What's wrong? What're you doing back already?"

"Uh… We finished shopping. Me and Aerith."

Axel's green eyes were concerned. "You sure? Usually it takes a lot longer than this… how come you're in bed?"

"I was sleepy?"

Axel smirked. "You were sleepy. Maybe…" He leaned down, a knee on the bed, hand planted by the blond's face. "…you had some awesome ESP moment and knew I was on my way."

Roxas glared. "Yes, or _maybe, _I was really fucking tired." He shoved against the bare chest. "Why are you not wearing a shirt?" he demanded.

"Oh, I got a little acid on me," Axel said casually. "Apparently Larxene didn't appreciate my flaming-tampon trick."

Roxas blinked. "You set her tampons on fire," he clarified. Axel nodded happily.

"It was great."

Roxas' eyes rolled. "So, you really _are _a pyro then. And here I thought it was just an affectionate nickname concerning your hair."

"I set that on fire once, too."

"…It's grown back marvellously."

Axel beamed. "Thank you." He sat back on the edge of the bed, reaching down into the dirty pile of clothing, sorting through for a shirt. "So, uh, are you okay? Like, I know things have been a little different to what you expected…"

Roxas stared at the ceiling. "I'm fine."

"Hm." Unconvinced, Axel turned onto his front, crawling over the blond's stretched body, hands and knees pressing into the mattress. Roxas' eyes widened.

"What the fuck, Axel?" he yelped. "Get off me."

"Relax, I'm not doing anything," the redhead frowned. "I just want to see you better."

His shoulder got punched ineffectually. "You can't see me from the other side of the room?"

"Not up close, no," came the patient reply. "Besides…" He leaned down to kiss the blond slowly. "It's the first time I've had you on my bed since the other night. No one knows we're together…"

"Oh, hey, that's a great idea, let's make them _extend _this punishment by having you fuck up again and ignore it!" Roxas suggested brightly. "Then maybe I can lose a leg under a rockslide, and we can miss out on mealtimes together!"

Axel snorted, pulling back with eyes rolling. "Sarcasm doesn't suit you, Roxie."

"Aren't you meant to be in some form of pain?" the blond inquired with a quirked eyebrow, pushing up to sitting. "I mean, the acid and all…"

"It was just a little acid," Axel reassured him. "And it just soaked my shirt. That's why I need a new one, ne?" He winked. "I'm just tough that way. Strong, like."

"My hero," Roxas drawled. Axel got up from the bed, going to sort through the wardrobe again, while the blond settled his chin on his knees.

"Tell me about the war," he said suddenly. Axel stuck his head out beyond the door, eyes widening, a frown in place.

"Oh, wow, Rox – that's kind of a long story, you know? I haven't got time. I'm just meant to be changing and scurrying back."

Roxas ignored his protest. "It's why I was put into Twilight Town, right?"

Axel's eyes narrowed. "Who've you been talking to?"

He lifted one shoulder. "Aerith let it slip. She didn't know you were upholding this hush-hush thing with me and, you know, information I might like to hear," he said calmly.

"I'm not doing it deliberately," the redhead muttered, pulling a shirt out at last and tugging it over his spikes. "I just…" He breathed out through his nose, a determined noise, and gave Roxas a hard look. "I promised you I'd tell you everything once you were out."

"Demyx told me," Roxas agreed.

"Yeah, well… I mean…" He stepped away, closing the doors, and shrugged, arms held out. "What do you want me to do? You can either wait a while, and hear it all from me like I promised, or you can go around asking other people." He watched the blond for a moment, eyes intent, before adding, "I'd really prefer you let me tell you."

"Why?" Roxas tilted his head, puzzled. "Is it really that big a deal?"

"It's not…" Axel lifted his eyes to the ceiling. "It's not the sort of information you can take lightly, Rox. The story is simple enough, but…" He met the blue eyes, clear and uncertain, bright. "I'm the one that knows how it all relates to you. I wanted to be the one to let you know."

A frown touched Roxas' features. "That's sounds a little ominous…"

"Yeah, well, it's not always going to be pretty, is it?" he muttered. He shifted over to the bed, bent forward to kiss the blond one last time before leaving. Roxas allowed it, felt the squirm in his stomach, felt his fingers become suddenly lighter, and decided it didn't really matter what Demyx or Aerith thought about how he felt about Axel.

All he wanted was for them to deal with it between them, and that's precisely what they were doing. He had no complaints at all.

Axel drew back, smiling softly. "Everything cool?"

Roxas nodded. "For now. But – don't let this drag out. People are talking like they expect me to know stuff – whatever you want to tell me, I'll end up learning about whether I want to or not."

Axel frowned. "A week – minus two days." He grinned sheepishly. "You think you can keep your ears shut for five days?"

"What?" Blue eyes twinkled. "Just plug my ears and start humming the second someone tries talking about the war, or the Twilight Children network, that sort of thing?"

Axel winced. "You sure do pick things up. But yeah, sure, that'll work. You do that."

Another swift peck to his forehead, it _felt_ like they were a couple – what else could he possibly call this? Friendship with benefits? Might as well call them fuck-buddies and get it over with, if he was going to choose that particular epithet.

"Axel?" His voice was soft, catching the redhead at the door. Axel turned his head, absently sucking on his bottom lip, the twin tattoos drawing attention upward, as if those eyes weren't already grabbing all on their own.

"Hm?"

"I – " Roxas lowered his mouth, hitching his knees a little closer, holding on a little tighter. "I like you."

He didn't look up to gauge the reaction, and the redhead didn't suddenly throw himself over towards the bed in a fit of passion, declaring his undying love for the blond, like maybe Roxas had expected him to.

Instead, Axel, unseen to Roxas, stiffened, eyes widening, mouth open a little. Then it clicked shut, thumbs hooking into his belt-loops. He nodded, smiled slowly. "Okay, Roxas."

He quietly closed the door, leaving the blond blinking from the light, the sudden darkness, the absence of another presence in the room.

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Dinner rolled around, and Roxas nearly slept through. He would have, if the knock hadn't come at the door, soft at first but then insistent. Eyes winking erratically with grogginess, he pushed himself up from the mattress, the sheet sticking momentarily to his hot face, dragging painfully against his back as he staggered up and over to the door. The part of him awake enough to be alert dreaded the person on the other side, knowing intrinsically that Yuffie would be waving her claws at him with the promise of more torment.

It was to his surprise that he found himself blinking into eyes an almost identical shade of blue to his own, a slight shade of yellow ghosting the skin underside of the right one; the last remaining bruise.

"Sora," he croaked, the name on his tongue before his mind had a chance to catch up and agree.

The owner of the eyes nodded, scratching the back of his brunet spikes, the other hand gracing his hip. "Hi. We haven't really been formally introduced, not since… well, you know…"

Roxas' eyes closed, he nodded. "Did – your boyfriend tell you what I said?" he asked softly.

The boy smiled. "Of course. He then swore he'd kill you, once he made me explain exactly what you were apologising for, but – " He laughed, a bright noise. "I covered for you. After all, I've been talking to Naminé a bit, so I kind of understand what it is you were so mad about…"

Roxas looked up sharply, startled. "Naminé! Of course – she'd have realised. And – you're friends with her?"

Sora shrugged. "Everyone's sort of friends here – well, except with Larxene, though it's not for lack of trying – but yeah, me and Naminé, and Kairi and Riku, and Vaan, we all tend to sit together just like Axel and his closer friends do."

"Oh." Roxas hesitated, flickering to meet the brunet's gaze. "I really am sorry. I know how awful Seifer can be, and I just…"

"Look, Roxas, seriously…" Sora shook his head, spikes bouncing, waving a hand to clear the air between them. "If I thought Riku was some kind of con-artist with Kairi, trying to make an idiot out of me while stealing all my money at the same time? I'd more than freak out, trust me." He rolled his eyes to emphasise the fact that, maybe, Sora had a demon lurking deep behind the happiness. Roxas found it hard to believe, but nodded.

"I appreciate that. Thanks." A silence developed awkwardly. Sora raised an eyebrow.

"So, are you coming to dinner, or what? That was my other reason for coming – Axel's looking pretty depressed in the dining hall, and I thought it might be to do with the lack of – "

"It's _dinner?" _Roxas threw the door wide, blinking, a slight panic in his gut. "How – how long have I missed?"

"Oh, well – dinner kind of stretches, you know?" Sora smiled. "It's okay, there's still enough time to do whatever. I guess just coz it's the second night you haven't been, Axel figured you were a non-dinner guy or something."

"He would, wouldn't he?" Roxas grumbled, quickly darting back in to throw on clothes and shoes before meeting the other in the hallway. "God forbid that he'd send someone to find me."

"I think I heard Demyx making some loud requests," Sora informed him, "but apparently he's not allowed near you. Something about…" The boy's eyes laughed, while his voice remained steady. "…fucking Leon?"

"Oh, man," Roxas complained. He shot a quick glance over at the brunet, realising suddenly, "You've been out here your whole life, haven't you?"

Sora nodded, a crooked sort of smile in place. "Yeah, that's me. I hid from the soldiers, managed to stay free."

Roxas frowned, feet taking him automatically around a corner that three days ago he'd have sailed right past. "So… Twilight Town – it's some form of – incarceration?"

"That's how I think of it," came the simple reply. "A lot of people view it as the town's saving grace, and no doubt it was, but I think the way they continue to hold people after all this time is pretty disgraceful. DiZ won't give them up, though – he says there's too many to just release into the real world without warning. I've argued, but…" He shrugged.

Roxas smiled a little incredulously. "You've _argued? _With that weird guy? I thought you people looked on him like a god."

Sora snorted. "It's not quite that bad. DiZ definitely holds a lot of sway, but I'm a full technician – he can't do diddly-squat to me."

"Why not?"

"I'm too damn useful," the boy said cheerily, as they entered the dining hall. "And I see your mildly less useful boyfriend sitting miserably over with his friends – why don't you go say hi?"

Roxas was shoved away before he could argue that they weren't boyfriends, as such, before he could defend Axel's usefulness, before he could ask how one becomes a full technician – hell, before he could even say 'nice to meet you, and sorry again'. His feet took him staggering in the redhead's direction.

Demyx spotted him first, brightening up instantly and giving a quick wave. "Roxas! Come on over!"

Axel straightened, twisting sharply, eyebrows shooting into his hair. "Roxas?"

Having regained his footing, Roxas approached the table self-consciously, scratching at the peeling skin of his neck. "Hi. I hear I nearly slept through dinner."

"Is that what the marks are on your face?" Demyx laughed, pointing. "You've got all these pillow creases everywhere."

"Demyx, don't finish that thought," Zexion muttered warningly, shooting a glance at Axel, but the redhead was acting as if he hadn't even heard, his face breaking out into the first grin of the evening.

"And here I thought you just didn't like eating." Axel stood, moving to hug him, but hesitated slightly as his hands passed Roxas' arms. The blond sighed, spared a glance at the sky, then pulled him close. With a little laugh in his voice, Axel said, "It's nice to see you, too, but – PDA much?"

"I'm not going to promise dry-humping on Aerith's stove," responded Roxas flatly, "but hugging in public I can manage."

"That's enough for now," Axel allowed, returning the embrace. Into his ear he said, "I'm happy to see you here. I thought maybe I was being avoided."

"No, just dreamt about in between drooling on your pillows," the blond admitted. Axel laughed.

"I'll never wash them again." He played with a couple flaxen spikes. "Not that I do anyway. That's more a momma Aerith job."

"You lazy ass," Roxas muttered, pulling back with a smile. "I'm hungry, and all I've eaten in the last couple days is breakfast food and sandwiches. Is there anything – non-Axel – that I can sink my teeth into?"

Axel grinned, shaking his head. "And you say you don't know me well." He wrapped an arm around the blond's neck, tugging him near, and went to show Roxas around the spread-out kitchen. Just as they had managed to pile Roxas' plate up, a hand poked him twice on the shoulder. Roxas glanced over his shoulder, to see a beaming Yuffie.

"Hiya, Roxas," she chirped, still insanely energetic after a full day's work. "You and I don't have our daily grope session until later, but Leon sent me over to steal you to our table."

Axel slid an arm around his waist possessively. "Leon will have to wait," he growled. "I'm pretty sure it was made clear that Roxas belongs to _me _at mealtimes."

"So come _join _us, doofus," Yuffie sighed, twirling a hand at him. "It's really not that large a room, you can still yell idiotic things to your friends from our table."

Roxas and Axel exchanged looks. "What does Leon want with me, anyway?" the blond asked suspiciously. "I don't have to do the rock thing again, do I?"

"No, no – Aerith's got you covered on that front, she's gone into lioness mode with you, kid. But Leon doesn't want you shopping all day, either – apparently Aerith managed to buy more flowers today with you than she even got with Cloud, so you're no good at that."

"Oops," said the blond guiltily. "But – she really wanted them all…"

"Yeah, I know." Yuffie winked. "Leon won't admit it, but I know he likes them. He's just not happy if he hasn't got anything to bitch about. So come _join _us, Roxas!" She took on a wheedling tone. "The only time I get to see you is when I'm causing you pain! It's no fun at our table without a new guy to show the ropes to!"

Roxas sighed. "Okay. But Axel comes, too."

"Did I not _just _say that?" She jumped around on the spot, landing with her back to them, motioning them forward as she trotted away. Axel, looking decidedly sulky, followed Roxas over to the Restoration Committee table. The redhead glared as Tifa gestured the blond over to the seat she'd apparently reserved for him, greeting him delightedly. Aerith, sitting beside Cloud, smiled warmly at the two males.

Axel set their plates down noisily, glaring around at the table's occupants, reserving a particularly heated look for Leon, who ignored him completely, focusing instead upon the blueprints he and Cid were currently poring over, food forgotten. He looked up only when he heard Cloud, prompted by Aerith, greeting Roxas dully. He flicked an imperceptible glance at the expressionless Cloud, before settling his gaze on the younger blond. "You're our new gopher," he stated plainly, not bothering with small-talk. "Cid and I are working tomorrow on a section of the water generator in the valley, we need you back-and-forth-ing for us. Aerith will provide sunscreen, I advise you use it this time."

"Oh, don't mind me," Cloud muttered from his place. "I don't know anything, after all, except how to steal without getting caught. I sure as shit don't know how to fix machinery, which is why whenever my bike breaks down I stamp my high heels and call for a tow truck."

"High heels?" Leon appeared momentarily distracted, an eyebrow arching slightly.

"And _then," _continued the blond, "I go and make myself throw up in a ditch because I suddenly remembered I had some gum the previous day and accidentally swallowed."

"Oh, really, you swallow by accident?" Axel asked loudly. "Me, I usually make the decision beforehand and stick by it – spit, or swallow, hmm – and then I tend to save the gum for afterwards."

Leon choked, snorted, tried to make it seem like he wasn't laughing, while Cloud's mouth dropped open. "Now," he scowled, "I see why you never sit at our table." He turned back to Leon, ignoring the knuckles the brunet held to his mouth in an effort to stay quiet, and said, "My _point _is that I _do _think I could be of use to you guys. You haven't even bothered to ask me."

"_Fuckin' fine," _Cid snarled suddenly, throwing his pen hard enough to send it bouncing across the table. "I can't concentrate with you morons being shit-heads on a permanent basis – you can work with us, you can even wear your high-fuckin'-heels, but will you idiots _please shut up? _And give me back my pen," he snapped at Tifa. She tossed it lazily over, smirking.

"You have a lot of experience with spitting and swallowing?" Roxas asked, quietly enough that no one would overhear. Axel blinked, tearing his amused gaze from the proceedings.

"Oh, uh, a little."

"Who with?" Roxas asked, curious, faintly jealous. His features darkened after a moment. "Not with Demyx, please."

Axel laughed. "No, no, it's not Demyx. It's no one you know." He slid a hand through Roxas' hair, fingertips dragging in a sort of massage, just about making the blond purr at the pressure. "If you hadn't noticed, there's a sort of city-type thing going on down the bottom of the hill, where people live. It has bars I liked to frequent, once upon a time, and as I always say, nothing liquors you up like alcohol."

"Intelligent of you," Roxas grumbled. "Liked, past tense?"

"Pre-Roxie, yes." The redhead leaned in, kissed his temple. "Eat your dinner, or no dessert," he growled into the blond's ear. Roxas fought off the shiver that threatened to overtake, focusing on his food with effort.

Yuffie, meanwhile, squealed at the cuteness of Roxas' strained expression, then pouted. "I don't get why the other tables get to have hot guys kissing, while me, Tifa and Aerith get stuck with all the grumpy shits in the room," she complained.

Tifa smiled wickedly. "One way to solve that problem, Yuffie, dear – " She lifted her head imperiously, gesturing across the table. "Cloud, go make out with Leon."

An eruption of choking volleyed forth, Cloud having almost inhaled his spoon, Leon his own saliva. Nodding smugly to herself, she winked over at Yuffie and mouthed, 'Only a matter of time'.

Axel chose the opportunity to whisk Roxas away, back to the table of techies, where they could finish their meal in whatever passed for peace in this open asylum.


	14. Chapter 14

**A/N: **Okay, sit tight for randomness. Sorry for the delay, but after two non-stop weeks, I finally had my mental collapse. I got stuck halfway through, utterly incapable of deciding on a course of action for Axel. There were all these possibilities for his reaction, and I had no idea which to pick, or how to work it in. I'm highly uncertain about this chapter – tell me, please, if it seems totally crap. It's just – argh. There's a lot of argh-ness over this one.

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CHAPTER FOURTEEN

When Yuffie entered the next morning, she was dragging herself, face heavy with lack of sleep. She staggered to the bed and fell on top of Roxas, for the second day running startling him awake.

He lay there blinking, the girl making no move to lift herself. "Uh, Yuffie?"

She whined, "Five more minutes. You're warm, and Leon made me get up early to get _you _up early."

Roxas swiped his drowsy features. "We're up early?"

"You're going to the valley, remember?" She groaned, rolling to the side. "That means extra walking, which means an early start."

"But I don't want to get up yet," Roxas attempted to reason. Yuffie hit him.

"Hey, buddy, I had to get up _super _early to give you your massage, so don't you tell me you don't want to get up! You don't even _have _to yet, you just have to lie your ass still so I can rub you!"

"I'm pretty sure I'm glad Axel's not around to hear you say that…"

"Shut _up," _she complained. She climbed over onto his back, sitting heavily, and started off simply by thumping him a few times in the name of waking up blood vessels. Roxas wasn't so sure about the innocence of her intention, but wasn't exactly in a position to protest too loudly.

When at last she finished the hour, they were both a lot more alert. Today's session had been a lot less painful, thankfully, both his skin and muscles having settled down slightly from their previously less-than-ideal state. "So, Axel wouldn't like hearing about me rubbing your half-naked body, huh?" Yuffie asked slyly, as she swung her legs over onto the ground.

Roxas snorted. "He'd be jealous because you got to me first."

She laughed, ruffling his hair as he sat, ignoring the squinting look he sent her way. "How's that going with him, anyway?" She scowled, adding, "Demyx better not be pressuring you to have babies with the redhead."

"I'm pretty sure that would require Axel's sister," Roxas reminded her doubtfully, "whom I have no plans to impregnate now, or ever."

"Well, there's always that," she admitted with a shrug. "You've gotta admit though, it'd be damn cute." She brightened, flicking her hands at the head-height of the various imaginary toddlers bouncing around. "Mini-Axel-and-Roxas's! God, the hair! The eyes!" She pouted, folding her arms. "Why do you guys get all the best damn genetics?" She threw her hands in the air as she flounced from the room, declaring in fading tones down the hall, _"In my next life, I choose to be a hot, gay man!" _

"Uh… right, okay," Roxas muttered to himself, blinking around, scratching his head. Miniature versions of him and Axel? God, they'd all end up killing each other before they turned three… The adult versions had enough trouble as it was.

He went to the wardrobe and pulled out a fresh shirt, frowning at the increasingly filthy state of his jeans, and the speed that he and Axel were going through the clothes. He'd have to ask Aerith about this, see what he could organise as far as his own clothing and room were concerned. Surely they didn't all expect him to take over Axel's bed from now until forever? Where was the redhead sleeping these days, anyway?

Making up his mind to ask both Aerith and Axel about new sleeping arrangements, he tugged on his shoes, tied the laces, and set out for the dining hall. It took him a while of cautious turns and the occasional backtracking, but he managed to direct himself there without needing rescuing. His eyes lit instantly upon the sweeping view from the windows, the small group of men huddled against the tall glass, gulping down hot coffee and checking over various sheets of paper. Roxas poured himself a steaming cup and joined them, shivering as the cold leached through from outside, the sun yet to appear, the horizon deep blue with a glow of white.

Leon glanced up at his arrival, nodded briefly as he took his place beside the grim-looking Cloud. The blond glanced over at him. "Hey, Roxas."

Surprised by the voluntary greeting, Roxas managed to utter back, "Hey."

"Okay, today we're heading to the valley site like I told you last night," Leon explained, his voice low in the pre-dawn hush, an automatic response despite the electric lights blazing overhead. "Cloud's going ahead on his bike with some materials that would've slowed us down to carry. You, me, and Cid are taking the rest of the tools between us. We'll be there by nine, work until five, then come back for a late dinner."

Roxas dimmed with the realisation that he wouldn't be seeing Axel at all today, every mealtime taken up with either transit or work. "Damn," he muttered softly.

"What do you see in that guy, anyway?" Cloud grumbled, evidently aware of their situation, arms folded over his chest with his coffee in one hand.

Roxas glared. "I wouldn't expect you to know. You're too busy stomping around in heels, remember? Are they pretty pink, with bows on, or are you more of a sleek and sophisticated woman?"

"Enough." Leon's voice cut through the juvenility. "We need to get started. Roxas, grab something to eat to take with us, do it fast."

Roxas went to comply, his mood sinking. Yuffie was right – they were a bunch of grumpy shits. Cid hadn't even bothered to acknowledge his presence, Leon was using him to the best of his abilities before the week ran out, and Cloud was a mopey little bitch.

They left the castle as the sun was rising, the air chilly and windy, trees shushing, gravel crunching loudly as they walked. Cloud was leaving in another hour on his bike, currently tying various lengths of pipe and a large toolbox as securely as possible to the machine. It was going to be a heavy ride. Roxas was just glad the blond had spoken up the night before and insisted on coming, otherwise all of those things would be weighing down _him. _Between the three of them, they managed to cart several other toolboxes, some large batteries, and an assortment of junk Roxas knew vaguely by sight but couldn't hope to identify. They had packed it all into hand-pulled wagons, the trundling wheels grinding over the small rocks.

The walk was long and hot, far more strenuous than yesterday's trip to the city. Roxas could feel the pounds melting from his frame with the rivers of sweat dampening Axel's shirt. He'd worn three-quarter-length sleeves to save his flesh from the sun, but it was heating him up the higher the blazing star crept.

By the time nine came and went, they hadn't yet reached their destination. Cloud had long-since passed them by, and would be waiting impatiently for their arrival. Roxas' face was bent low, mouth open as he sucked in air, the taste of salt invading his lips and tongue. Leon led the way from the main, winding dirt road onto little more than an animal track, the earth freshly ripped from Cloud's passage. It was nearly a quarter-to-ten by the time they arrived, and the workday had yet to begin.

Both Leon and Cid seemed fine to start straight away, while Roxas staggered around cursing videogames and a lifetime of junk food. A bottle of water flew across the clearing, knocking him on the head, sending him to his hands and knees in the grass. Glaring, he lifted his gaze to find Cloud staring, blue eyes blinking. In answer to the scowl, the older blond shrugged. "I really thought you were looking."

Sulking, Roxas unscrewed the cap and swallowed as much as he could. He was assaulted suddenly by thoughts of Olette, making him drink after his ordeal in the tunnels. He hesitated, frowning slightly as his heart gave a little lurch, a quick stab of pain churning the dry toast in his stomach. Slowly, he drew the bottle away from his lips, wiping it clean in case the others needed to use it later. He was sitting in the grass with his knees bent, elbows propped against them, the bottle between his legs. Brows furrowed, he studied the water, tipping the bottle back and forth, watching the fluid slosh from one end to the other.

Olette. He wondered how she was doing. It had been a few days since he'd heard her voice… That last day of school, he'd avoided them all, hadn't felt like talking with everything that was going on. He hadn't – felt he could confide his fears in them, and at the time, that had solidified his opinion that all he really needed was to get out… find people he could relate to…

Roxas lifted his head, squinting through the sunshine at the three men, bent in discussion over some plans, the generator hulking down by a river passing through the valley. The ground around them was littered with tools and equipment, raw materials, the air filled with the faint rushing of water. These were the people he had left his friends for? This was his replacement for Hayner, Pence, and Olette? They had – been together forever, even when Roxas hadn't wanted or needed them… they'd always stuck by him.

Olette's tears, when she thought Roxas was coming back to them, back to _himself, _that old, cheerful version they used to know and love… The memories were beginning to hurt. Quite – quite a lot. He thought of them, trapped inside a network of circuits, completely unaware that the lives they were living were futile, they were two-dimensional, they barely even existed, as far as these people were concerned…

"Roxas! Get your ass over here!"

He sighed, stood, part of him glad to have the excuse to abandon the current train of thought. He shuffled over to the three men, Cid holding a cylinder of paper that he was knocking against his leg with nervous energy. "Okay, kid," he started, "we're gonna need you transferring this stuff over by the river. Me, Leon and Cloud are gonna go check out the machinery, tighten some winches and shit like that, we don't have time left in the day to be carting this stuff around anymore than we have. If you have trouble lifting anything, use the goddamn wagons, it's what they're here for." He squinted one eye. "You get all that, sunshine?"

"Uh – "

"Great." Rolling his eyes, Cid wheeled away, digging through his pockets for a packet of cigarettes, stomping down towards the generator. Leon and Cloud followed, and before long, Roxas found himself back to sweating, while they crawled in and out of the machine, calling to each other, taking notes, the clatter of tools filling the air.

The day passed, morning becoming afternoon, fading gently into evening. Roxas was sitting on a patch of grass, momentarily unneeded, enjoying the chance to let his muscles cool down, feeling the nip of the breeze as it rustled through the trees, the grass, a draught up his calves chilling the sweat that had gathered under the heavy denim material.

He was a reasonable distance from the worksite. It was within sight, easily, and within shouting distance if he was required, but he had taken the opportunity to have some time alone. Thinking of Axel, of the castle, of technicians and Twilight Town.

He heard footfalls, frowned, started to turn but was stopped by hands closing gently around his skull in a cage of strong fingers. His face was jerked back to look straight ahead, a quiet, startled noise escaping his lips.

"Hello, young man," a deep, soft voice whispered into his ear. "How are you today?"

Roxas felt the power in the hands that held him. He strained to twist, but was held in place, nails pressing warningly into his scalp. His lips pressed tightly together.

"Who're you?" he demanded. "Let me go."

"See them over there, working away… fighting to reconstruct what was so very nearly – how did she describe it? A big pile of rubble?"

Something tightened in Roxas' chest. "What?"

"Hollow Bastion was so lucky, wasn't it, Roxas?"

The blond bucked, teeth clenched, elbows shooting back. The hands drove his face into the earth, dirt through his lips, grass choking his nose, spluttering and breathing in grit. His fingers found the dirt, shoved, trying to pry his head back, but he was held relentlessly, pressure forcing against the base of his skull. He started coughing weakly, writhing. Abruptly, he was yanked back up, the claws surrounding him again, holding his neck immobile. Soil dropped from his face, the tang of blood coming from one swollen lip as he gasped. He was forced to look over at the river, the generator, Leon, Cloud and Cid so far out of reach right now.

"They are so close, aren't they?" the voice taunted. "So close – all they'd need to do is look up, look at you, and they would know things weren't right. Who would come to the rescue, do you think?"

"Let me go," Roxas said weakly. He was shaken roughly, something clicking sharply in his neck.

"No requests. No mercy. Nothing but death, and fire, and torture, and destruction. Isn't that how life is, Roxas? _You wouldn't know!" _the voice hissed, and he was shoved back down, smothered in the earth, rolled back and forth, teeth cutting the flesh behind his lips, scooping dirt under his tongue, scraping into the cavities of his eyes. "You were in the network, little war-orphan, little baby with blue eyes and blond hair, parents dead, little war-orphan trapped away – thinks he's suffered, does he?" Lips found his ear, the voice louder now, snarling, "You think you've suffered, Roxas? You think being locked away was such a terrible fate?"

Roxas was slowly asphyxiating, throat clogging, trying to hack and breathe at the same time, hands reaching up to tear strips with his nails at the vicious hands that held him so tightly. His feet dug into the ground, scraping uselessly. He planted his hands, pushed, pushed, fell back as he was released, gagging up dirt, gasping in air and crying.

"Poor little war-orphan." Sinuous breath. "I'll make it better, in the end." A punch to the stomach forcing out what little air he'd salvaged, a punch to the face sending his head ringing, all so tight and quick, sharp to keep him silent, the three men calmly working away down the hill next to the river. "You shouldn't have left me." His head driven into the ground, once, twice. "You shouldn't have run." Nails being dragged across his cheeks. One last warm exhalation upon his lips, one last clutching at his ribs, fingertips digging in to bruise, one last tug at his hair, hard, hard enough to sting, one last murmur in his ear: "You should have known you wouldn't get far, Roxas."

Roxas was left in the dirt, bruised and bleeding, shivering and panting, pain everywhere, heartsick, head a whirling mess, tears leaking through his grit-filled eyes. His lips voicelessly formed Axel's name, a silent plea, begging for help, the air empty around him of human presence.

Time passed. It was Cloud that found him, features twisted with horror, picking him up, Roxas' face between his grease-smeared fingers. "Roxas! Fuck!" He turned, roared over his shoulder, the other two coming at a run. Breathless exclamations, a startling lack of swearing from Cid, Leon gently removing the boy from the blond man's grasp.

"Cloud, get the bike started, he needs to be taken back to the castle."

"The hospital!" Cloud stated, eyes wide. Leon snapped him a glare.

"The castle. Aerith will take care of him. Tifa has some training as a medic. Get him to them, he'll be fine. No hospitals."

Tempted to argue, the blond nevertheless capitulated. The bike was started, Roxas slung into his arms across his lap. Cid tucked the boy's legs up, a hand brushing the dirt from his eyes. Roxas coughed weakly, face turning into Cloud's chest. The bike's engine snarled, and moments later took off, tearing a trail back towards the castle, leaving the valley far behind.

-------

Roxas winced as someone touched his cheek, flinching away from the pain.

"Roxas, you need to wake up." A gentle voice, coaxing him from the darkness. "Come on, sweetie, I know you're nearby – push through. Open your eyes."

Blue eyes cracked open, stinging. His face was wet, the smell of rubbing alcohol drifting through his senses. He inhaled sharply, eyeballs like dry spheres of vellum in his skull, ticking slowly sideways, Aerith coming into view. She smiled slightly, green eyes concerned, a line between them he hadn't seen before. "Welcome back."

"Aer – " He broke off into a fit of coughing, voice a rasping rattle. Something cold touched his lips, eliciting pain.

"Drink," she urged softly. "You need to get it all down."

Roxas sucked noisily at the water in the cup she held, feeling the dirt pass into his stomach, scratching at the back of his throat. Aerith's fingers brushed lightly at the hair covering his forehead, bangles clacking quietly. He finished, coughing weakly, and she drew the cup away. Roxas took a deep, slow breath, turning awkwardly onto his side, bed-sheets rustling. He gazed around blearily, saw he was back in Axel's room – it looked different with the lights on. His shirt had been removed, making him shiver. He tugged the blankets up, tucking them under his chin, wanting nothing more than to return to sleep. Aerith sat beside him on a chair, still stroking his hair.

A wave of grief washed over Roxas suddenly, in the face of such nurturing.

…_don't be surprised if one night you wake up calling for your mother._

He buried his face into the pillow, struggling against the swelling in his chest, feeling it trickle to burn his stomach. He hitched in a broken breath, fighting for control, and Aerith just kept petting.

"It's okay," she whispered. "It's okay for you to cry, Roxas."

He shook his head sharply, pain stabbing through at the motion. "Where's Axel?"

"He's working, sweetie. We haven't told him you're back yet. He needs to finish his shift, and there's nothing he can do."

"We're worried he'll just get in the way," Leon's voice broke in, making Roxas cower, a sudden rush of memory assaulting him at the abrupt words appearing from nowhere. He forced his head up, twisted to see the brunet man leaning against the wall beside the wardrobe, half-hidden by it. Roxas let his ear drop back to the pillow.

"You need to tell me what happened, Roxas. One minute you were right there, the next you were gone. Cloud found you half-conscious on the side of the hill."

Roxas' eyebrows drew together, the motion painful, his head a throbbing mess, extending down in a spiral around his spine. "How long have I been asleep?" he asked hoarsely.

"About five hours, sweetie," Aerith answered, sliding her hand down to slip into Roxas'.

Roxas grunted. _"Shit."_

"What went on?" Leon asked flatly. "Describe the attacker."

Roxas let out a huff of air. "Can't. He didn't… I never…" He drew a breath. "He came from behind. I didn't get – a chance to look. His voice, though…"

"His voice…" Leon sounded disgruntled.

Aerith, more encouraging, prompted, "His voice?"

"I'd recognise it again… but… that's all."

"Any idea of an age?" Leon demanded.

Roxas shrugged faintly, freckled shoulder shifting the covers. "Twenties? Thirties? I don't know. He was a man. His voice was deep."

"So," muttered Leon, running a hand through his in frustration, "we have a man with a deep voice running around attacking people from behind, in isolated areas." He paced away from the wall. "What was he even doing there? Did he know we'd be there, or did he just stumble across us?" He turned to glare at the injured blond. "Did you do anything? Why did you move so far away from us?"

"Leon," Aerith admonished, frowning. "Don't blame Roxas."

"I just… wanted some space…" Roxas' voice was small. He hunched into himself. "I'm sorry."

Leon sagged, a hand reaching up to pinch between his eyes. "No, look, I apologise. It's not your fault, Roxas. I'm just – angry. I didn't notice you were gone."

"Can I see Axel now?" the boy sighed. Aerith and Leon glanced at each other, her lips pressed, his expression weary. Leon nodded.

"I'll get someone to let him know what's happened."

He left the room, while Aerith gathered her materials together, getting rid of the blood-stained cotton-balls. "I'll stay until he gets here," she said softly. Roxas nodded, eyes slipping tiredly shut. She sifted through his hair a little. "Try to stay awake. You have a slight concussion. We want to make sure it doesn't develop into more."

Roxas sighed, forced his eyes back open, listening to the silence, waves of comfort radiating from the woman. About ten minutes passed before the door jerked open again, letting in an irate Axel. The air around him vibrated. His eyes narrowed angrily upon seeing Roxas' state, then transferred to Aerith as he snapped, "Why didn't anyone tell me sooner?"

"We felt it was best this way," Aerith said patiently. "He's only just woken up."

"I could've helped, though," he argued, body-language aggressive, stalking over to the bed. "I could've cleaned him up, it's not like I haven't had any _fucking _practice."

"You still had your shift to get through," the brunette reminded him. Axel snarled, hands moving sharply like they did when they held the chakrams, as if he itched to have them, to use them.

"Roxas is lying in bed beaten to within an inch of his life – "

"He's really not that bad," Aerith corrected.

" – and you really think that my _shift _is more _important?" _he continued loudly. He let out a hiss of air, fingers forming fists, taking an abrupt step back from the woman. "You should go," he said tightly. "I can take care of Roxas."

Aerith made no move to argue, nodding quietly and collecting her things, but leaving the cotton balls and rubbing alcohol. "You can disinfect his cuts again, they got quite dirty." She stood, patted Roxas one last time, then left the room, pulling the door shut behind her with a low click.

Axel's anger found new focus, meeting Roxas' glare as the blond said, "That was a pretty shitty thing to do. Aerith was only trying to help."

"Roxas, I don't particularly care," the redhead replied, dragging the chair back to slide his long legs in beside the bed. He did as Aerith advised, unscrewing the cap of the clear alcohol noisily, soaking a cotton ball, swabbing Roxas' face. The fluid was cold, stinging the numerous small cuts and grazes. There was silence for a while, Roxas fighting off the winces at Axel's angry, efficient strokes. "Tch." The redhead's expression darkened, long fingers seizing Roxas' jaw and turning his head slightly. "You have scratches on your cheek."

"Both cheeks," Roxas quietly remembered. His voice was low, subdued. He accepted the pain, feeling sick at the memory.

"So, who did it?" Axel asked intensely. "I know you don't recognise people yet, but give me a description. I'll pass it on to the others and we'll go hunting."

"Hunting?" Exhausted disbelief.

Axel shot him a sharp look. "Hunting," he confirmed. "You think I carry those spiky fucking wheels because they complement my ass?"

Roxas shook his head, regretted the action, stiffening at the pain. Axel's eyes became slits, nostrils flaring slightly as he tried to contain his rage. "I already told Leon," Roxas said tiredly. "I didn't see the guy. He came from behind."

"What, you didn't see _anything?" _Axel scoffed. "Come on, Roxas, nobody gets beaten this bad from behind. You must've caught a glimpse at least."

"Well, I'm sorry," said the blond harshly, "but by the time I might have been in a position to, I had dirt in my eyes, my head had been bashed against the ground, and I was concentrating on not smothering on the fucking _earth _in my throat." He glared with bloodshot eyes. "You think I don't want the guy caught? He's a fucking maniac, Axel, he knows my _name, _he knows I'm from _Twilight Town, _which probably means he knows I live _here. _You think I _want _him running around free?"

Axel's lips had pressed thin. He scraped at Roxas' face with the cotton ball, along the neat cuts made by the man's nails. _"Ow!" _Roxas shouted. Tears sprang into his eyes. He leaned over and shoved the redhead roughly. "Get away from me, you're just making things worse! You're angry with me!"

"I'm not angry with you," Axel snarled.

"You are!" Roxas cried. "You're fucking angry with me for not fighting back! I _couldn't, _Axel, I _tried. _He was too strong for me!"

"How does he know your name? How does he know you're from Twilight Town?"

"I don't know! He just fucking _knew! _He must've been following me and Aerith to town, because he said something she'd said to me. _This wasn't my fault!"_

Axel sat back suddenly, slumping against the chair, a loud sigh ripping from his lips. Roxas glared, wiping at his stinging eyes, daring the redhead to continue. The fight, however, was draining steadily out of the long-limbed male, the tension leaving the room.

"What did he want from you?" he asked quietly, eyes low. "Did he ask for something, or were you just a convenient outlet for his insanity?"

Roxas hunched up slowly, defensiveness dying away. He closed his eyes, remembering the garble of words that had been hissed into his ear. "To be honest? I don't have a clue. He was just – nuts. Certifiable. He didn't ask for anything – just – told me I shouldn't have left him. Shouldn't have run." He blinked at Axel. "Do you think he followed me out of Twilight Town somehow?"

Axel's head lifted, eyebrows rising. "What? No, impossible. No one in the system knows it's a simulation. No one could have followed you out." He shrugged. "Hell, Rox, no one even knows you're gone."

As soon as the words left his mouth, Axel froze. His eyes rose slowly to meet Roxas', a confused, suddenly worried expression in the blond's face. "What's that supposed to mean?"

Axel rubbed the back of his neck, tipping his head back with a sigh. "Sorry. Didn't mean for it to just come – blurting out like that." He folded his hands between his thighs, grimacing. "One of the great things about people leaving Twilight Town is the total loss of memory those around you suffer." He half-smiled, without humour, a concerned cast to his green eyes. "You've had it yourself, Roxie. Riku, Kairi, Naminé – once they were gone, you basically forgot they existed. It's part of the program – the person in charge of getting you out of Twilight Town just goes through and systematically wipes your presence from everyone's minds. It's not that hard to do. And, well, you had Naminé technically working your case – she's not the best techie, but she's a total wizard when it comes to modifying memories…" He sucked in a deep breath, held it for a moment, said on the exhalation, "Nobody remembers you, Roxas. I mean, if you returned tomorrow, it'd pretty much break the programming, and your friends would remember you, but for as long as you're out here…"

Roxas was struck numb. Nobody – remembered him? No one knew he was gone?

No one knew… he'd ever existed?

His entire life had ceased to be.

"Mom," he whimpered. He curled a hand across his face. Everyone he'd ever loved had just been torn away from him.

"Ah – about your mom, too…" Axel shifted uncomfortably. "I mean, I never meant for _this _to be our time for me spilling all the big secrets, but… Roxas, your mom's not real. Neither's your dad. They're – part of the program. Part of Twilight Town."

Roxas ripped his hand away, snarled, _"What?"_

Axel flinched, blinked. "I'm sorry," he said in a rush. "It's that whole war-orphan thing you mentioned – we're _all _war-orphans, Roxas, everyone who's ever been in the network and then some…"

"What are you talking about?" Roxas demanded. "What do you mean? You're telling me _I'm _a war-orphan? An _orphan?" _

"I'm sorry," the redhead breathed again, sinking down in his chair, knees pressing against the side of the mattress. He rubbed at his face, long fingers pressing between his eyes. "Yeah, you're an orphan, just like me, just like all the techies. It's – the whole _purpose _of Twilight Town – to house the hundreds of kids who… whose parents died in the war." He cupped an elbow in one hand, using his free hand to scrape through his scarlet spikes. "It was DiZ's idea. There were too many kids dying on the streets without people to take care of them. Everyone was – trying to pick themselves up, you know? Hollow Bastion, it was hit so hard… So many adults were killed, it was like a city of children for a while." He shrugged. "The solution was to build them a new town, some virtual nannies, and… just let them take care of themselves."

"Virt – _virtual nannies?" _Roxas was livid. "You're calling my parents, _my _mom and dad, _virtual nannies? _You're telling me – " His voice rose. " – that all the love, all the hugs, all the _birthdays, Christmases, good-night kisses, _all the – all the fucking love and care I've ever experienced wasn't _real?"_

"No, no Roxas, you – "

"Then explain it to me," the blond hissed. He sat up, ignoring the pain. "I won't jump to conclusions this time, Axel – you tell me the truth."

Axel was silent for a few beats. "They…" He had nothing to say. No argument to make. "It was – it _was _real… They were…" He hesitated. "They were made to be as lifelike as possible…"

"_Life_like?" Roxas was crying quietly, tears spilling down his cheeks, stinging the cuts there. "My parents weren't _real, _Axel. Lifelike doesn't mean anything. I knew that things were getting bland, and I realised once you got me out that my life was kind of a lie – but – my mom and dad weren't _real? _They weren't – they were all just…?"

Axel lay his head on the mattress, mumbling, "I'm so sorry, Rox. I didn't want to hurt you."

"You _have," _Roxas snapped. "You've hurt me a fucking _lot, _Axel." He gripped his hair, lowered his face to his knees. "Oh, my God," he moaned. "You're the only person in the whole fucking universe that loves me."

Axel lifted his head, regret tugging his features, compassion. "Oh, Roxie, no…"

"So you don't love me then?" the blond snarled.

"No – of – of course I do!" Axel replied, sounding panicked.

"Then shut up," Roxas said miserably. "Because my friends are trapped inside a town that doesn't exist, and they stopped loving me when I stopped loving _them, _Axel, because I became a total _ass._ You're the only fucking human being that loves me."

"Roxas…" Axel got up from his chair, slid onto the bed beside the blond. Roxas flinched away from him, wiping at his face, then leaned in, tucking himself into the redhead's chest.

So, this was it, then. This really – made it _final. _Roxas hadn't just left a false town, he'd… he'd left a false _life. _His parents weren't real.

Fact. Fact, fact, fact. Deal with it. Fucking _deal with it. _No use – crying over a group of pixels that… don't even know you were ever alive.

Hell, they didn't even know anything to begin with. They were just… programmed to act a certain way. A deep, numbing confusion swept through the blond, the rug of a secure upbringing being tugged right out from under him. There was nothing to fall back on anymore, no intrinsic knowledge to depend upon, because everything he thought he knew was just – utterly, utterly unreal. He was hurting, inside, outside, mentally, emotionally.

He'd better learn to love Axel, and fast, because he didn't think he could stand this feeling of loneliness any longer than he had to. He needed something to cling to, something to reassure. Maybe this was why people ended up bonding so heavily with the one that took them out of Twilight Town – it was like, all of a sudden, this was all he had left. This thing with Axel, it was all that separated him from being _nothing. _

All those people, they were happy now, weren't they? They'd suffered the same epiphanies, people like Zexion, and Riku, and Kairi, even Naminé – they were all fine now. They knew that their lives were non-existent, that it began the moment they were pulled from the system. And they were _okay._

Roxas would be okay. He insisted to himself, deep inside, even as his blue eyes continued to well up, that he'd be just like them someday. He'd move with confidence again. He'd be happy, just like they all seemed to be. Kairi and Naminé – they hadn't even had the opportunity to get together with anyone. They must've been… tougher than they looked. He couldn't imagine Larxene making it all worthwhile…

Roxas, though – he had Axel. He had Axel to make it all worthwhile.

"I'm not leaving you again," the redhead muttered suddenly into his blond spikes. "Fuck this. I'm talking to DiZ the next time I can, and I'm getting this sorted out. You can't be punished for my fuck-ups. I'll find a way to take it onto myself, like it should've been from the beginning." He kissed Roxas' head. "You've suffered enough. It's time to make you see that – that this is a life you want." He held the blond close, momentarily forgetting the injuries, Roxas not reacting to the various bolts of pain. "It'll be okay, Roxas. It really is better out here. I'll show you. I'll show you everything. And then you'll be happy."

Roxas – he really, really hoped so. Because it was such a horrible struggle… trying to convince himself that all of this wasn't a huge mistake. It was hard to not be wishing his mind back to its ignorant state of three weeks ago, Axel or no Axel.


	15. Chapter 15

**A/N: **Made it! Today's chapter really should've been finished hours ago, but I had people bugging me today… Bad, bad people, who have made it a _mission _to bug me. Bad people :( Anyway, I'm hating myself less for yesterday's chapter, and I like today's one, so all is right with the world. Before I forget, I've started up a FictionPress account, so anyone who's either interested or supremely bored can check it out via my profile, and see what my regular work is like, old though it may be. I don't think I've started anything new for about two years, which is just another reason why fanficcing is so awesome. If you do go look, make sure to review! This is stuff I hope to get published someday! (like, waaaaay in the future, when it sucks less).

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CHAPTER FIFTEEN

Yuffie was quiet the next morning, touching Roxas almost hesitantly. He, for the most part, lay still and enjoyed the peace, squirming only when her strong, kneading hands strayed toward the bruises on his ribs. He heard only her small breaths of effort, the slide of skin against skin. Blue eyes blinked slowly at the door, trapped at half-mast, still puffy. The left temple of his forehead was a raised purple bruise, extending down almost without break to the site of the punch above the claw marks marring the flesh of his cheek. His head felt clearer after half a night's undisturbed sleep. Axel had stayed with him, just like he should have that first night, the blond huddled in his arms. It had been a salve, lying like that within the redhead's warmth, feeling his heartbeat against his shoulder. And every time Roxas had stirred and fluttered his eyes open, Axel had been watching him. He hadn't slept once.

When Yuffie arrived, Axel had used the opportunity to go shower and change. He was dropping his used clothes off at the laundry room, then continuing directly on to speak to DiZ. He'd promised to be back for when Yuffie left.

Towards the end of the session, the girl finally piped up, "Roxas?"

"Mm." The blond was enjoying, for the first time, the relaxation these massages provided. As much as he'd previously complained, he was sure he was going to miss them each morning, once they ceased in a couple days' time. He even thought he'd miss Yuffie, these rare moments when she wasn't tormenting Cloud.

"About yesterday…"

Roxas sighed. "I'm fine, Yuffie. Really."

"Oh, uh, yeah, that's good!" She flushed. "But I wasn't going to ask." She shrugged. "You'll have enough people bugging you about it, so I figured I'd be the first to let you have some peace." She pushed her hands down his bare calf. "I'm glad to hear you're doing okay, though."

"So what's up, then?" he asked curiously.

Yuffie bit her lip, thumbs working at the arch of his foot. "It's about – Leon. And to a lesser extent, Cloud and Cid." She paused, waiting for a reaction, but the blond lay silent. "Please don't blame them," she begged softly. "They feel so bad for not realising. I doubt Leon got a wink of sleep all night."

After a beat, Roxas replied, "Neither did Axel." His voice had an edge to it. "He spent the whole time watching to make sure the concussion didn't worsen."

'_They are so close, aren't they? So close – all they'd need to do is look up, look at you, and they would know things weren't right…'_

"I knew it," Yuffie said unhappily. "You're blaming them, aren't you?"

"Leon blames _me," _Roxas responded curtly. "Why shouldn't I return the favour?"

He got his ass whacked. "Leon doesn't blame you, he blames himself," she argued. "He knows it could've been so much worse – I mean, look at you, Roxas! It's bad enough!" She scowled. "If Leon ever says anything to you, asking why you didn't scream, if he gets mad or starts ignoring you, it's only because he's so eaten up, he can't stand it. Seriously, kid," she added earnestly. "You don't know how he gets."

"How the hell do you even know about it?" Roxas asked. "Did he tell you what happened?"

"Cloud did, what he knew," she admitted. "He's beating himself up, too."

"Better than getting beaten by someone else," Roxas mumbled, bitterness stirring in his blood. She let out a frustrated noise, hands becoming briefly hard against his flesh, dragging painfully, making him wince.

"I can't believe you," she muttered. "I mean, who was it that got you back so fast, huh? Who was it that found you?"

"They _had _to find me, Yuffie," he remarked patiently. "It was pretty obvious I wasn't around anymore."

"And who's fault is that?" she snorted.

"Not mine," Roxas snapped, lifting his head, twisting to glare.

"Well, it's not theirs, either!" she cried stubbornly. "It was whoever did this to you!"

"I _know_ that," Roxas bristled. "Leon blaming himself is just stupid! It's not like he's the one who hurt me."

"So – you _don't _blame him?" Yuffie pounced, pausing, eyebrows raised.

Roxas groaned, bringing his hand around to wipe at his features. "I just – " He brushed his fingertips gingerly over his forehead, shifting the hair away from the abused flesh. "I wish they'd seen me." He sighed quietly. "All they had to do was – lift their heads, and they'd have seen."

"They know that, kid," she said softly. "That's what they can't get over. That's the kick in the teeth that's got them all wanting to punch the walls in."

"You can tell them I don't blame them, then," he said wearily. "I don't care enough right now to make an issue of it."

Yuffie finished him off, shaking her head. "That's good to hear, but they're not gonna give up that easy."

"Sucks to be them, then, I guess. I'm not going to hold their hands and tell them they didn't fuck up." He fought to keep the harshness to a bare minimum. He wished Axel would hurry up and come get him.

"Suit yourself," the girl replied neutrally. She clapped her hands together, clambered off his half-naked form as the door swung open, Axel keeping his promise right to the minute. He nodded distractedly at Yuffie.

"Thanks for taking care of Roxie."

"Just doing my job," she said lightly. She turned to the blond. "See you round, Roxas?"

"Sure, Yuffie," he replied, grunting as he pushed himself up to sitting, legs swinging around, toes touching the ground. The ninja left, leaving Axel to stare.

"What're you doing?"

Roxas glanced up, frowned. "Getting up?"

"No, no!" Axel crossed the distance between them, took his shoulders to press him back down. "You need to rest!"

Roxas batted him off, scowling. "I don't want to. I need to walk around. I'm not a goddamn invalid; it's not like I've never been beaten up before."

"You've never been terrorised like this," Axel snapped. "You've never been sprung like this!"

"Well, obviously you weren't watching my middle-school years too closely," the blond responded curtly. "Seifer more than primed me for this."

Axel grabbed him as he stood. Roxas' look of supreme irritation faded upon seeing the redhead's startled expression.

"You said – you thought maybe someone followed you from Twilight Town?"

"Yes, and you said it was impossible," Roxas reminded him. He tugged free, went looking for his clothes. "Besides, I would have recognised the voice if it was Seifer."

Axel deflated, theory shot down. Roxas took pity, dragging on his jeans, buttoning them as he said, "I know you want to find this person. I wish we could. But I really don't think it's going to just fall into place, Axel. And that's okay. I don't expect it to."

Axel scratched his head, fingers slipping under the wild spikes. He admitted, "I really don't think I'd be this calm if it was me."

"Look," Roxas reasoned, "it's freaky as hell – I'll give you that. I'm not saying I won't have nightmares, but hey, at least the guy didn't rape me. It's not like he couldn't have dragged me away if he wanted."

Axel's eyes slipped shut, a grimace tight on his face. "Don't, Rox. Don't talk about it so casually. It could've happened."

"But it didn't." The blond pulled on a shirt from the dirty clothing pile, after making sure it wasn't the acid-stained one. He hesitated, then went and slipped his arms around Axel's waist. "I'm okay."

Axel jerked a little, surprised, hands moving automatically to clasp behind Roxas' back. "I – I know you are. It's what _could've _happened that fucks me up…"

"So don't think about it. Jacktard."

Axel laughed, a release of sound and tension. "You little bitch, that's my word."

"Learn to share with the other boys," Roxas drawled, before raising an eyebrow. "But then, maybe I don't want to encourage that."

Another chuckle, softer, and Axel bumped their noses together. "No sharing, not of me, not of you."

Roxas smiled, slight uncertainty in the expression. He wanted to say, 'it better stay that way', but – well – with all that he'd learned, he was worried about coming off as… clingy. Or needy, or whatever. There was a little voice in the back of his head that wondered if he was using Axel, sucking up the offered love and affection to nourish his loneliness. If ever the day arrived that Axel didn't want him anymore, he didn't want to be – floundering around with nothing to buoy him. He didn't know if he could trust reality to be any longer-lasting than its counterpart.

Axel held him gently, watching the frown come and go across the golden features. He squeezed the blond slightly, bringing his attention back to the room with a tight smile. "How did it go with DiZ?"

"Well, I got you off, it that's what you're asking," the redhead said with a smile. Blue eyes widened.

"Seriously? Just like that?"

"Not 'just like that'." Axel rolled his eyes. "It's only because you've been virtually cursed from the moment you got here." He flicked his fingers at Roxas' chin, grinning wryly. "Never underestimate the sympathy vote."

"Huh. Cursed." Roxas lowered his gaze sourly. "Yeah, that sounds about right."

Concerned, Axel hooked a knuckle under the blond's jaw, angling his face back up. "We'll turn it around, okay? You're free to become a technician now. That means we can stay together."

Roxas' brow creased in thought. "What if – I mean…" He trailed off, meeting the suddenly intent green eyes hesitantly, flicking away a moment later.

"Roxie?"

"Is there – any rule that says we have to stay here?"

Axel blinked, drawing back slightly. A wariness passed through his eyes. "Is that what you want? To leave?"

Roxas pursed his lips, gaze determinedly averted. He shrugged a little. "Maybe. I don't really know for sure, but – is there?"

Axel shook his head slowly. "No. No rule. But, Roxas – this is… my _home. _Hollow Bastion. Everything I've ever known is here."

Roxas was suddenly furious, eyes widening in disbelief. He pulled away sharply. "Please, tell me you did _not _just say that," he said shakily. "You, who convinced me to leave all _I _ever knew – you did _not _just say that."

Axel realised his mistake, but saw no reason to back down. "Different situations, Rox. You wanted to leave Twilight Town – that's the whole reason I was allowed to bring you out. You've got to want it, and you can't deny even for a second that you _did."_

"And what if I want to leave here, too?" the blond demanded.

"_Do _you?" Axel repeated, growing frustrated. "I mean, you haven't exactly given Hollow Bastion a chance, but if that's what you really want, then we've got something to discuss. But you have to really _mean _it, Rox." Roxas folded his arms, glowering at the floor. Axel waited, eyebrows raised. When no answer was forthcoming, he let his hands drop to his sides, slapping his thighs. "Think about it, anyway," he said tiredly. "And in the meantime, how about we go get something to eat?"

Roxas relented reluctantly, glancing up, expression smoothing out. He sighed, nodded. "Yeah. Sounds decent."

"You sure I can't convince you to go back to bed? I have many obvious charms," the redhead half-heartedly tempted, a slight smile in place.

Pained, Roxas shook his head. God, he was such an asshole to Axel. "The last thing I need," he replied heavily, "is more time to think." He hands found his hair, fingers winding through the spikes. "I don't – necessarily want to leave, Axel. I just – want things to get better. Like you said: it's like I'm cursed."

"Yeah, well, I _also _said it's not going to last any longer. I'm making a stand, and you're gonna join me – no more bullshit for Roxie." He held out an arm. "Say it with me!"

"No more bullshit?" the blond echoed, faintly amused. He slipped his arm into Axel's, hooking them together.

"Again, with conviction," came the scolding response. Roxas shook his head with a smile.

"How about I just… join the techies?"

Axel brightened. "That'll work."

They went to breakfast, argument forgotten, Roxas leaning against him. They were earlier than most – there were only a couple people in at this time, Riku and Sora among them. Naminé stood with them over by the counter, the three of them murmuring quietly between themselves, Riku's arm around the brunet's waist as Sora tore apart a bagel with his fingers, eating it piece by piece.

Naminé's eyes lifted, the smile on her face dying as she caught sight of the redhead and the blond. She excused herself from the couple, who glanced over curiously as she crossed the dining hall. Axel's face darkened, his fingers clutching unconsciously tighter around Roxas' biceps. The blonde girl came to a stop, an anxious smile upon her features, eyes darting to Axel before settling on Roxas.

"Hi," she said, voice a little higher than usual. "I was – wondering if I could borrow you for couple minutes?"

Curtly, Axel asked, "Why?"

She lowered her head, saying softly, "Just for a little while… I'd like to talk."

"You can't talk with me around?" he challenged, eyebrow rising.

Roxas unwound himself from Axel's possessive grasp, ignoring the displeased glare. "It's okay. We can talk." He met Axel's gaze. "Wait for me, okay? Save me a seat."

Axel's eyes narrowed. He shot the blonde girl a sharp look, then nodded. "Fine, Roxas. I'll be waiting." He left them alone. Roxas fixed Naminé with a patient look.

"I see you got yourself untied."

She flushed, frowning at the memory. "That wasn't very nice, you know. I was only doing my job."

Roxas folded his arms over his chest, sighed. "What did you want to talk about?"

Naminé hesitated, hands twisting together. "I – well – I heard about what happened." In response to Roxas' incredulous look, she shrugged. "News travels fast." She studied him worriedly, eyebrows drawn together. "How are you?"

Roxas' mouth twisted dryly. "Do I suddenly remind you of fifth-grade?"

She burst into a nervous giggle, hand fluttering up to stifle it. "Now that you mention it…"

Roxas shook his head, arms dropping. "I'm fine. Really."

Naminé lowered her face, eyes blinking slowly, rising to meet his regretfully. "I'm – sorry, Roxas," she said softly, fingers linking together and plucking at her dress. "I – I can't help but feel partially responsible. My actions…"

Ah. Now Roxas understood. She had been motivated to find him out of guilt. He was growing impatient with people blaming themselves over something none of them had anticipated or could even control. "You couldn't know," he said sharply. "Like you said, you were just doing your job, right?"

Naminé looked disheartened, letting out a little sigh. "Right."

There was a brief silence between them. Naminé fidgeted, far less confident around him now than she had been in Twilight Town. He had caught glimpses of her at mealtimes, at the table where Sora and his friends sat, but this was the first time, since leaving her bound in the white room, that they had found themselves face-to-face. It occurred to Roxas, with a bizarre and sudden feeling of displacement, that it had been only five days ago. The last time he had spoken to Naminé, it was to argue with her. She had – told him lies back then, just like Axel. Only, her lies had been more manipulative. She had tried to force him to stay in Twilight Town, in order to keep his family from worrying.

He eyed her, thinking back to then, and back further to when he had crushed on her when they were kids. He tried to join the three Naminé's in his head, and figure out how he felt about any one of them now. Was he mad? Was he indifferent? Was there still a spark of affection in his heart?

To be honest, he was just… really tired. Too much had happened in the last couple days. His head was full, his heart wrung out and weary. He was sick of trying to figure things out. The easiest, most painless thing to do, would be to let it all go, and start from here. After all, if he couldn't find a way to do that with just a person, how was he ever going to build himself a life here at all?

"I hear you're the one that got rid of – everyone's memories of me," he said quietly.

Naminé grimaced. "I guess you hate me even more, then."

Roxas shut his eyes, rubbing at his head in an automatic gesture, flinching away from the pain it brought. "Nam, I don't hate you at all. You didn't do anything to me and Axel that hasn't been fixed by now, and – well…" He shifted his shoulders, took a deep breath, forced the words to come. "I mean, it's probably better this way, right?" An edge of desperation entered his tone. "They're not worrying. No one is. That's – good for them. My friends, that is. I wouldn't want them to… wonder."

Naminé's expression folded into compassionate sadness. "I'm – I'm glad to hear that. But still – I'm sorry. For… your pain."

Roxas' pain? Yes – there was… a lot of it. Specific thoughts wouldn't stick in his mind on the subject, but an awful hollowness haunted him. He gave a humourless laugh. "And I guess this is why you didn't go see your parents, huh? Why you lived in the mansion like that?"

Naminé's gaze dropped. She sucked in a breath, eyes glancing about the immediate area. She leaned a little closer, voice lowering. "A-actually I – I did go see them. Remember I told you?" Red spots tinged her pale cheeks. "I wasn't meant to, but I – I guess I just – even after all that time, I had to see for myself…" She shook her head shortly. "Silly of me. They're not real, and even if they were, they wouldn't have remembered me… not after two whole years… Only people I barely knew would have any vague memories of me, because they didn't matter as much, but…" She looked up, meeting his gaze, smiling slightly. "To all intents and purposes, they were my _parents. _Maybe their love _wasn't_ real, but it still _felt _real. I always felt cherished. It was probably to counteract the trauma of the war – everyone in Twilight Town feels loved, unless they're determined not to. No one gets beaten, or neglected…" She tipped her head to the side. "It was plastic," she said softly, "but – plastic can be nice. Plastic's better than mud, right?"

"Better than…" Roxas dipped his head. "But at least… mud would've been real. I don't know, Nam. I just…" He sighed. "I'm going to go get some breakfast, okay?"

She frowned, disappointed, nodded. "Okay, Roxas. I'm glad we got to talk a bit. Thanks for listening."

He smiled, dug his hands into his pockets, nodded, and walked away. Axel was waiting moodily at the table, empty so far of the other techies in his group. He'd got two bowls of cereal, and was digging through his own while Roxas' got steadily soggier the next place over.

He sat, turning the bowl so the spoon was closer, and started eating. He waited for Axel to speak, but the redhead remained silent. Roxas darted over a glance, took in the sulking air, Axel's elbow on the table, hand holding his head as he scooped up some milk then watched it dribble back into the bowl with a scowl.

"Not hungry?" the blond asked quietly.

Axel grunted. "I'm fine."

Roxas smirked. "First Cloud, now you. Always knew you were anorexic."

"Shut up, short-ass." A ghost of a smile. A raised eyebrow, Axel's dirtier side irrepressible as he asked, "Does this mean you're going to punish me, now? I mean, before, Hayner was there, so I can understand not tying me up and spanking me right at the table…" While Roxas hung his head, fighting a full-body blush, Axel crept closer, apparently forgetting his bad mood. "I mean, this place is virtually empty…" He grinned wickedly. "We could give little Naminé a show she'd never forget. What do you say?"

Roxas rolled his eyes. "I think you're jealous of Naminé, that's what I say." He turned to face the redhead more fully, playing with his spoon, clacking it down into the bowl, swirling the milk. A mischievous glint came into his blue eyes. "And who could blame me?" he asked quietly, leaning in. "She's pretty cute, after all. Were you a techie when I was between the ages of nine and thirteen? Because I had a _huge _crush on her, I'd have gone out with her in an instant, treated her like a queen – "

Axel's hands snaked out, wrapping around the back of his neck, jerking him closer with a snarl. He ignored the startled look on the blond's face. "Enough – teasing," he growled. Roxas grinned cockily a moment later.

"Who's teasing? Maybe I'll go up to her once we're done here, ask her out for coffee – you guys have coffee shops, right? Maybe I lust after her, maybe I want to be a father someday…"

Axel was gone. Roxas sat blinking for a few seconds before realising the seat was empty, the rapidly darkening face no longer there. He hissed, _"Shit," _before leaping up and giving chase. Axel moved quickly, exiting the dining hall. "Axel, wait," he called, hurrying after him. The redhead ignored him, cut down a left-hand corridor. Exasperated, Roxas repeated, _"Wait, _damn it. I was joking, okay?"

He turned the corner, was grabbed and slammed into the wall. It hurt, rattling his sore head, sending slivers through the fingerprints in his flesh. He gasped, momentarily seeing stars, his vision filled with red and green, tattoos up close.

Axel glared intently, breathing hard. His eyes bore into Roxas', flicked around from feature to feature, refocused on the blue again. "You sure about that?" he asked at last.

Roxas was bewildered. "Yes, I'm sure. Let me go."

Axel's grip loosened, but didn't release. "You sure you're sure?"

"Axel…" Roxas shook his head slowly. "Look, I'm sorry. You're not _that _jealous of her, are you?"

His eyes narrowed. "She's been interested in your case from the beginning. She never said anything, but I always figured she liked you."

"And you figured I'd suddenly like her back? I'd like her better than you?"

Axel shrugged, stepping back at last. "Like you said, you had a crush on her before she left. What's to stop that attraction from kicking in again?" His countenance soured. "And hell, if it's kids your after, I'm not exactly going to deliver anytime soon."

Roxas groaned. "Jesus, Axel – I worked in a toy store, okay? I've seen what kids are like. I _don't _want _kids." _He stared at Axel, standing in the middle of the hall, face down-turned with a scowl in place. "Seriously, I'm sorry. I was just being a dick."

Axel glanced up, eyes narrow, a faint glint in his eyes, a shadow of a smile hovering once again. "You sound almost worried, there, Roxie. Scared I don't love you anymore?"

Roxas was quiet for a minute, still leaning against the wall, rubbing the back of his head carefully. "Is that something I'm likely to risk?" he asked at last. Axel's humour died.

"I'm sorry for – you know, throwing you into the wall."

Roxas exhaled sharply, managed a rueful curve of the lips. "I know, it's okay. I should've – stopped while I was ahead, I guess."

Axel shifted from one foot to the other, suddenly awkward. "So, what did she want?"

Roxas smiled. "Nothing much. Just soothing her conscience a little. It was feeling a burn." He fidgeted. "You don't need to worry about me going after Naminé. She's nice, but – not like that. I told you, I like you."

"And I told you that I love you," came the soft response. "Which makes it a lot further for me to fall if you happen to decide you can't be bothered with this thing we have anymore."

"We have a thing?" Roxas asked, grinning slightly. Axel stepped back to him, mouth lifting at the corners.

"I like to think we have a thing." He hesitated, hands halfway to the blond's shoulders. "Do we?"

"I like to think so," Roxas echoed. Axel leaned down, pressing his lips gently to the blond's. Roxas responded instinctively, relaxing against the wall, shifting his tongue out to meet the one that came questing. Axel sighed into his mouth, hands sliding back around Roxas' neck, pulling him closer. The blond settled his forearms against the chest against his – how long had it been since he'd walked into this chest, all those evenings ago? Who would've known that, in the end, he'd find himself against it, enjoying its presence, the warmth, the distant thunder of its heart?

A need for air made him eventually push the redhead back, Axel letting out a small grunt of dissatisfaction at the loss of contact. Roxas had to laugh quietly at the glazed look to the other's eyes, the sudden flush of his lips. Axel smirked a moment later, folding his arms against the wall over Roxas' head, stretching his legs out backward to peer down at the blond. "Well, well, Roxie. I'm pretty sure that was our first make-out session, and I don't know about you, but if this is what happens in the aftermath, you need to tease me about Naminé more often. Or you could just… _tease _me." His teeth flashed, a pointy, predatory expression that made Roxas falter. "I really don't mind, either way."

"I think I could do without the drama," Roxas muttered, trying to keep his voice steady. "Just teasing will be fine."

Axel laughed, delightedly, head thrusting back to let it loose. "Oh, I'm turning Roxie _dirty, _am I? Who knew it would take such little _time?"_

A sudden squeal from the left alerted them to the fact they had company, and a second later said company made itself known by colliding into them, a pair of arms wrapping around the pair and drawing them into a crushing tangle.

"OhmyGod, you guys are too cute together," Demyx crowed, jumping up and down. Roxas twisted his head desperately to find Zexion, anxious for a rescue.

"Demyx," Axel grated, trying to tug free. "You're crushing Roxas."

"I know! I can't help it!" Demyx's bright face turned in the blond's direction, before registering shock. "Whoa – what happened to you? Rough night?"

Roxas eyed him, squinting, wondering if this was some kind of allusion. "Not exactly."

"It was for me," Axel grumbled. "Not a wink of sleep."

Demyx's jaw dropped. "Holy shit," he gasped. "You guys! You – you - ?"

Axel shot Roxas a glance, asking permission, whether to inform Demyx of the truth or deepen the misunderstanding, Roxas wasn't too sure. Deciding to clear it up, he shrugged, said, "Dem, you think you could let me go? I got beaten up yesterday in the valley." As the arms fell away, he added, "No, I don't know who did it, I didn't see anything, it all happened too fast, and yes, I'm okay now."

Demyx was stunned. "Roxas! Jesus, that's awful! Is anything being done about it?"

Axel answered with a shrug, saying, "What can be done, Dem? He didn't see the guy." He placed an arm over Roxas' shoulders, drawing him in so they bumped together. "I talked to DiZ, though, and he's off the hook with the Committee." He glowered suddenly. "I'm sick of something going wrong every time Roxas is with them."

"It was only twice," Roxas broke in, frowning. "And the first time was my fault."

"Fine, the first time was your fault, the second time was theirs," Axel said calmly. Roxas exhaled sharply, shaking his head.

Demyx asked, "So – does this mean Roxas is a techie now?"

Axel grinned, tilting his head sideways to touch Roxas'. "Yep. He's all mine."

Demyx bounced happily. "But you'll share, right? I get Roxie sometimes, don't I?"

Axel growled warningly, snapping his teeth at the excitable blond. _"All _mine. I'll let you look, but nothing else. And _don't _call him that, the name Roxie also belongs to me."

"Uh…" Roxas raised an eyebrow. "And what am _I _left with?"

"An incredibly sexy ass. Which also belongs to me."

"You can keep your eyes," Demyx offered brightly. "No one's gonna be willing to scoop those babies out."

The other two stared for a moment. "I'm sorry, what?" Roxas attempted.

"I wasn't exactly going to hack off his ass, Dem," Axel muttered. "I prefer it _on _him."

"Oh. Right." Demyx paused briefly. "Okay, dismemberment bad, got it."

"Where's Zexion?" Roxas asked weakly, finding himself held just the slightest bit tighter against the tall redhead.

Demyx whirled in search. "He was right behind – oh! There he is!" He took off running down the hall, Roxas' eyes widening as the taller blond launched himself at the slender man who had just turned the corner and started towards their trio.

"Is he – always like this?" Roxas asked blankly, already pretty certain of the answer.

"Well, mostly." Axel smiled, bumped him with a hip. "He's not as psycho as he likes to appear, though. Dem's just fun, that's all."

Roxas wound an arm around Axel's waist, resting his head against the conveniently placed shoulder. "I'm looking forward to day that's calm," he sighed. "I don't know if I can handle 'fun' right now." Axel bit his ear, making him jump and yelp, trying to tug free. The redhead's grip held him in place, a grin in place as he looked down at the blond. "Axel, what the hell?"

"I'm making it a kind of fun you _can _handle."

Roxas huffed, squirming as Axel licked the site of the bite in quick apology. "Jesus," he muttered. "You've gotta stop that. It's like making out in the halls at school."

"You wouldn't know about that, though," Axel murmured. "You've only ever made out in the halls of – well, two feet over that way."

Roxas raised his hands to his hot cheeks. "Please. Shut up. Seriously."

Plastered with a Cheshire grin, the redhead relented, straightening as Zexion and Demyx approached, the blond inexplicably on the other man's back, legs hooked over his hands. He was like a kid at a carnival.

"Hi Axel! Hi Axel's Roxie!"

Axel nodded smugly, finding the use of the blond's name more than acceptable. Roxas rolled his eyes heavenward. "Hi again, Demyx."

"I heard about what happened," Zexion said, managing to sound calm and dignified, even with the child-like blond hanging over his shoulders. He did twitch as Demyx began sucking his cheek, nudging him off with his forehead in an attempt to maintain some gravity in the face of Roxas' beating.

"Damn it, Demyx, you can't keep your mouth shut for a second, can you?" Axel drawled.

Demyx instantly replied, with a wicked grin and a pinch at his lover's now-wet cheek, "Depends who's standing in front of me."

Zexion joined Roxas in the eye-rolling, hefting Demyx a little higher as he adjusted his grip on the man. "Actually, Demyx didn't tell me. I didn't know he knew. DiZ told me."

Axel was suddenly paying very close attention. "Excuse me? What was that? Why would he tell you something like that?"

"Because," Zexion responded patiently, "I'm going to be Roxas' mentor from now on."

Axel's eyes shot wide. "Oh, hell no! You've gotta be kidding me. I thought _I _was going to be mentoring Roxas!" He turned to the blond, adding, "See, that's what made it so funny that you were my mentor at the school, because I always figured I'd end up in charge of you once I got you out." He snapped his gaze back to the other man, the hair fallen across his eye revealing only half of Zexion's soul. "You're telling me I'm not allowed to even do _this?"_

Zexion shrugged. "I guess he doesn't want you thinking you got off. Just because Roxas has had trouble doesn't mean you're suddenly forgiven for sneaking him out in the first place."

"Man, that's bullshit," Axel declared angrily. "After everything Roxie's been through, he needs me around more than ever."

"Does he?" Zexion levelled his gaze at the diminutive blond. "Do you agree, Roxas? Is it a matter of need, or want?"

Roxas was startled, flashing a guilty glance up at the redhead, knowing the answer clearly. Axel's glare revealed that he, too, knew the truth of it. "Uh, well…"

"It doesn't matter about that," Axel snapped. "Fact is, that bastard's kept us apart for long enough. I've learned my lesson."

"Easy to say when you've got Roxas right where you want him," Zexion pointed out mildly. Demyx bit his neck.

"Bad Zexy!"

Zexion hissed, letting Demyx go. The blond, anticipating this, clutched even harder to the silver-haired man. Looking resigned, as if this were something he was quite accustomed to, Zexion said, "Axel, it's really not so bad. You're still allowed to see him, you'll both be technicians from now on, it's a huge improvement on only mealtimes together – be grateful. Roxas is shaken but alright, and you've lost the majority of the punishment. I'd keep my mouth shut if I were you."

Axel bared his teeth, moving behind Roxas to drape himself over the teen, sinking his head onto the blond's shoulder, sulking. "Fine. But don't be an ass to him. And I get dibs on being his sparring partner. And he gets his giant keys for weapons. And I get him at mealtimes. And you keep Demyx away from his goddamn eyes."

"Giant keys, fine, mealtimes you already have. As for Demyx…"

"Don't worry." The tall blond winked, over Zexion's shoulder. "Zexy'll keep me on a tight leash. I can go get the collar right now, if you want."

Roxas let out a noise of distress. "That's fine. Keep it hidden. Please."

"Hm, I don't know," Axel breathed into his ear. "That sounds kinda hot to me… As long as we switch Demyx with you, and the leash is in _my _hand, and we're somewhere in the general vicinity of my room…"

"Oh, my God." Roxas covered his face with his arms, struggling against the rumble of Axel's voice vibrating into his back. "Please stop."

Axel chuckled, and released him. "Maybe we can save that for later, then."

Unaffected by it all, Zexion said, "Demyx and I have to go get breakfast. Have you two eaten?"

"We've had food already," Axel confirmed. "I can take Roxie to the computer room, show him around a little while we wait for you guys. Sound okay?"

"Fine." Zexion, with his Demyx hunchback, passed by them. "Give us thirty minutes or so."

"No problem."

"_Bye, Roxas!"_

The shorter blond waved. "Bye, Demyx."

The pair watched them disappear. "I could totally carry you on my back," Axel offered. "I mean, if we're aspiring towards their little state of bliss, we may as well start now."

"Or we could always work towards our own," Roxas suggested hopefully. Right now, the very worst thing would be him on Axel's back… He wouldn't last, not after that most recent display. He could still feel the shivers.

Somehow, this answer made Axel break into one of the largest smiles Roxas had ever seen on the redhead. The pervert disappeared, leaving just – just a happy person in its wake, this bright, happy Axel. All Roxas had said was…

And suddenly he realised the significance of his words, and was surprised. No wonder Axel was grinning – he'd just… offered himself, it seemed.

And it was funny, but seeing Axel happy at this, made Roxas happy, too.


	16. Chapter 16

**A/N: **HOMG. That's it. Tomorrow, I work exclusively from books, with a pen, until my hand _cramps and falls off_if necessary, because something about sitting down at the computer destroys my ability to write well, right now. I have NO IDEA why, but honest to _God, _this is sucking. This chapter equals :( Excuse me, while I go and SCRUB MYSELF until I feel CLEAN again. AAAAARGHVGHEJKOJBGF!q!!!!!!

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CHAPTER SIXTEEN

Axel led Roxas through the corridors, back the way they came that first night. Roxas suffered flashes of memory, turning a certain corner, a mark on the wall that reminded him of the terrible weakness, the dizziness. Axel's arm around his shoulders, fingers idly sifting through the hairs at the back of his head, kept the disconcertion from becoming overpowering.

"What was that about my keyblades?" he asked, interrupting the unbroken sound of their footsteps echoing through the halls. Axel glanced down with a smile.

"Oh, is that what they're called? That sounds a lot better than 'giant keys', I've gotta say. Suits them better."

A soft, puzzled frown took over Roxas' features. "But – my dad made them." He looked up in confusion. "My dad wasn't real, so how is it he made keyblades? I mean – he always told me he made them in school, but – he's part of the program. He didn't _go _to school. He existed because _I _existed, right?"

Axel nodded. "Yeah," he said softly, "that's true. But the keyblades are real. The people in the program that raised you all these years were based on your real parents, Rox, to minimise the chance that you, or anyone else, would ever figure out that Twilight Town wasn't real. The network isn't just something that got stuck together out of bits of cardboard and some electric fans, you know? It's complicated, detailed. The keys belonged to your real dad. They were put into the system with you. Everything that belonged to you at five, left to you in your parents' wills, was inserted into Twilight Town." He shrugged. "DiZ was worried that if he didn't, he'd get blamed for looting. Back then, Zanarkand was desperate for a reason to turf DiZ out on his ass and just storm Hollow Bastion in his absence. They were always the more aggressive of the two nations. So every kid put into the system had all their personal effects put in with them. The keyblades are real, Roxie." He smirked. "And they kick some serious ass. You were a vicious little whirlwind on top of that clock tower."

Roxas shook his head. "Don't remind me. God, I was so messed up that night. I was so sure…"

"I wouldn't hurt you like that, Rox." Axel cupped the blond's chin as they walked, turning him to face him, to see the gentle cast of his features. "You know that now. It doesn't matter what happened then, because it's all sorted out. We're okay, right?"

Roxas smiled up at him. "Sure. Everything's great."

Axel bumped their foreheads carefully, avoiding the bruises. "Glad to hear it."

They passed through a round room, out onto a short steel walkway, then entered the computer lab, a large red and yellow spiral on the wall catching Roxas' attention, opposite the long bank of controls. There were two people already in the room. Riku, sitting on top of a swivel chair, his feet planted in the seat of it, shoulders hunched as he gripped the back of it for balance. He had been pushing the toe of one shoe against a blank part of the controls, swinging slightly back and forth, but ceased when the two entered. A scowl dropped his face. The other male in the room, yet another blond, turned curiously upon seeing the silver-haired teen's reaction.

"Oh, Axel, hey. You're not scheduled until tonight…" He looked at Roxas, waved. "Hi, there, I'm Vaan. You're Roxas, right?"

Roxas nodded. "Nice to meet you."

The redhead grinned. "Me and Roxie are your relief. Go get something to eat, I'm showing our newest recruit around."

Riku snorted, rolling his eyes. "I already ate, remember?" He shook his head. "Just make sure he doesn't get paired up with Sora, Axel." His eyes narrowed. "I never thought you'd end up falling in with Seifer of all people, Roxas."

The blond folded his arms defensively, Axel's grip on him tightening as he frowned. "What the hell, Riku?"

"I didn't fall in with Seifer," Roxas stated calmly. "That day with Sora was a mistake. I didn't hurt him, I just – didn't try to stop them. And I get it, that was a shitty thing to do, but don't make me out to be an asshole of _Seifer's _calibre."

Riku grunted, sliding off the chair, running a hand through his hair. "Whatever you say. Just, like I said, keep away from him."

"Hey, now, what's going on?" Axel demanded.

"I won't," Roxas replied, gaze steadily fixed upon the narrowing teal eyes. "I like Sora. He seems nice, and I think we could be friends."

Riku glared. "So first you let my boyfriend get beaten up, then you decide you want to be friends?"

"What the _fuck? _Will someone please explain this to me?"

"In a minute," the blond said quietly, before addressing the teen again. "I already apologised – you were there, remember? So what more do you want? I'm not ordinarily like that. Sora understands the circumstances. I'd like for you and me to get on, but if you can't get over this, you need to at least back off."

Disgruntled, Riku sized him up, hands moving to his hips. "You know, if I'd had my way, those bruises on you would be from me."

"_What did you say?" _Axel attempted to lunge forward, was blocked off both by Roxas stepping in his way, and the other blond, Vaan, intercepting to grab him.

"Whoa, ease up, Axel!"

"Axel, chill, okay?" Roxas murmured, shooting him an intent look. "I deserve it." He looked coolly at the silver-haired male. "Fine, okay? I get it. You don't like me – you're entitled to that. But don't be a bitch about it, and don't provoke Axel."

Riku tapped his foot rapidly. "Yeah, right," he muttered at last. "Like either Kairi or Sora will let me get away with not liking you." He made an impatient, frustrated noise. "Look, I'm still pretty mad, okay? And yeah, when I found out what you did, I was more than ready to come after you and pound you to the ground. But, well, it looks like someone beat me to it." Axel let out a growl. Riku shot him a hard look. "Shut up. Your boyfriend let my boyfriend get beat up by those Twilight Town bastards. Like he said, I'm entitled to not like him after that. But…" He pursed his lips. "It really doesn't seem worth the trouble I'll be in if I try." He exhaled sharply, shrugged. "Fine. Okay, we're even. You got hurt, I figure we'll chalk it up to karma and leave it at that. How does that sound to you, Roxas?"

The blond brightened a little, smiling faintly. "It sounds – good. I can deal with that."

"This doesn't mean we're friends," the older male scowled, "but I can… let the whole thing go, I guess."

Roxas nodded. "That sounds fair to me."

Axel wasn't pleased, but let Riku leave the room without pursuing the matter, watching him saunter away with narrow eyes. He turned to Vaan with a glower. "You going to say something, too?"

The boy waved his hands in front of his body, startled. "No, no way, I don't even know the guy! We just met, remember?"

"Yeah, well, get out," Axel said moodily. "I'm showing Roxie around. You can come back later."

Vaan shrugged. "Whatever you say. I could do with the break, I guess. I'll see you later." He vacated, leaving the pair alone again, Axel faintly disturbed.

"So, what was all that about? Did you really let Sora get beaten up?"

Roxas groaned, covering his face. "Yeah, I did. Because he was an outsider, and I'd just run away like an idiot from Naminé thinking you guys were using me, and – gah!" He dropped his hands, eyebrows knitted. "I'm sorry, okay? It was mean, it was a horrible thing to do – I wish I hadn't, and I've apologised. Me and Sora, we're cool now." He hesitated, running a hand through his spikes, regarding the redhead with worry. "I mean – you know I'm not like that, right? I'm not like Seifer."

Axel sighed, shook his head, red spikes swaying, went to where Roxas stood. He took hold of his arms and tugged him back, sitting on the chair Riku had left, pulling the blond into his lap. Roxas was startled, made as if to struggle, then saw the weary expression on Axel's face and relented. When the redhead pulled him close, he allowed himself to sink against him, resting against his collar, nose almost perfectly placed in the hollow of his throat.

"You're a good person, Roxie." Axel's voice rumbled into the side of the blond's face. "Don't worry about it, okay?" Long fingers brushed through his hair, soothing him. "Riku'll come around. Like he said, with Sora and Kairi around, he won't be _allowed _to dislike you, especially not if you and Sora are okay now."

Roxas nodded. "Yeah. I know." He sighed, resting for a while. "So tell me why we're here."

Axel smiled. "Well, 'here' is where the tour commences. This is the core of my beating techie heart, and soon it'll take over yours too, just like some kind of evil alien virus."

"Sounds interesting," the blond offered, smirking. "I don't think I've had that before."

"I should hope not, after all," he grinned wickedly, "it's sexually transmitted."

Roxas let out a squawk, pushing up to punch the laughing redhead in the chest. "You freaking pervert! God, you just don't stop!"

"Oh, Roxie, like I'd want to when you react so beautifully," he grinned. He tweaked the blond's cheeks, dodging the slapping hands. "The cutest!"

"So, moving _beyond _the STD," the blond groaned. Axel tickled him momentarily, got punched a lot harder, and continued with the explanation.

He swivelled the chair around, pointing a finger at the coloured spiral on the wall. "See that? That's the entrance point into Twilight Town. This whole room," he gestured with a sweep of his arm, "is the control centre to Twilight Town. This is where we monitor, where we program, where we modify, where we go in and out – it's the heart of the network." He reached around with one boot, hooking it under the slight edge of the controls, turning them back. "There's other places, lesser controls in different parts of the castle, like the dark room where we store and prepare objects for putting into the system, and the power room, things like that. But this is where the brain resides."

"This is where we came through…" Roxas stared over Axel's shoulder at the spiral for a moment, twisted on his lap to glance over at the bank of controls, brow furrowing in consternation. "Axel, this looks complicated." He glanced up nervously. "Is it too late to tell you I don't know much about computers?"

The redhead snorted. "Please, Roxie – you have nothing to fear. It takes years to get used to this system. The only reason Zexion's teaching you after only a year of experience is because he's crazy-smart, and Demyx taught him using sex-techniques or something to make it all stick." He propped up his feet, knees sticking up, Roxas slipping more firmly down, blushing slightly. He grabbed Axel's chest and knee, carefully reseating himself in the least awkward position he could find.

"And – this is where you watched me from?"

Axel hesitated, lifted a hand to point to the large screen, a broader chair bolted to the wall in front of it. "Right there, Roxie," he said quietly. "That's where I spent the last year of my life. The years before that, I checked up on you almost every shift." He smiled ruefully. "You can call me obsessed now, if you want. Everyone else did."

Roxas stared at the chair, imagined darkness, the long crimson spikes illuminated by the flickering of the screen, pale face bent forward, watching – him. Watching one blond teenage boy going through the steps of his life, bored and edgy. Axel would have known what was coming, would have sat there promising silently that he was on his way… Feeling love for somebody on a screen, somebody – he couldn't even touch.

"Yeah," said Roxas hoarsely. "You were… obsessed." He tore his eyes from the monitor, connected them to Axel's green, startled all over again by their vividness, and the depth of the emotion in them, even when, like now, he was trying to cover it up. "But I'm glad you came for me. You picked… the right person. I – want to be with you."

Axel's smile warmed, a tinge of relief touching it. He closed his eyes, leaned back, stretching his arms over his head, forcing Roxas to grip his shirt to weather the bobbing as he adjusted his pose. "To be honest…" His voice was quiet, distant. He was addressing Roxas only slightly, talking almost to the air. "I'd have been happy to just have you out here, standing on the other side of the room, ignoring me… It would have been worth it even if you hadn't looked at me, Roxie." He tucked his hands under his head, gazing at the ceiling. "You were my best friend. I always loved you, even back when it wasn't to do with us being together. Long before I wanted you – I loved you. Because we were little, and you were awesome, and we spent so much time together…" He glanced down, past his nose, not lifting his head. "Our parents were friends, you know. That's how come you and me were so close. We were foisted onto each other since we were in diapers." His eyes travelled slowly back up. "And then the war came, and they died, and you were taken away, and Kairi was taken… and I was alone."

Roxas watched his pensive expression, a stab of sadness touching his heart. All those years, Axel had been by himself. Sure he'd had friends, like Demyx, maybe Sora – but he'd wanted Roxas, and Kairi. And Roxas – he didn't even remember. He still only knew Axel as of nearly three weeks ago. He still hadn't got his best friend back.

Roxas shifted slowly, frowning, dropping a leg either side of their arrangement, straddling the redhead. He placed his hands on Axel's chest, leaning forward. Axel glanced down, an eyebrow arching. Roxas caught his gaze, held it intently. "You're not alone anymore." He said it firmly, almost sternly. "I'm here now. Kairi is free. You don't need to obsess, you don't need to sit in this room and stare at a screen to be near me. I'm right here,Axel."

The redhead smirked faintly. "Yeah. I know." He jigged his legs once, making Roxas slip a little. "I feel you. You're heavy."

Roxas scowled until the humour dissipated from the other's face, slight concern taking its place. "Roxas?"

The blond lifted himself up onto his toes, creeping forward until he was against the man's stomach, Axel's eyes getting wider with every deliberate motion. Roxas lowered his face, breathed onto him. He frowned. "I'm right _here." _

He kissed the redhead, gently taking the sides of his face, feeling the hands brush against his sides, before settling against the small of his back. Axel tugged him down, making him gasp a little, gulping, sitting almost on his chest. "Shit, don't do that."

"I want to," the redhead growled, pulled him again. Roxas hovered for a brief moment, exhalations fanning the man's lips, before slowly licking them, making Axel groan.

"I said, don't," he whispered. "It's really not a good idea."

"Fuck, Roxas," came the replying mutter. "When did you get all – like – _this?"_

"The minute you spilled out your little sob story…" He caught him in a wet joining of mouths. "…and plucked every string in my sympathetic soul…" Another kiss, deeper, teeth scraping gently along his lower lip. "…and made me want to take away all the pain you've ever suffered…" He pulled away, blew gently up the side of Axel's face, pushing a lock of hair with his breath, sending the man's eyes slipping shut. "If only for a moment." He drew back, grinned lop-sidedly. "Never underestimate the sympathy vote."

Axel's lips parted, eyebrows up, eyes flicking open slowly. Breathlessly, he asked, "Did I ever tell you the story of how my dog died? It's… tragic."

"Just like you, huh?"

When Zexion entered the room, he found the blond and redhead smiling goofily at each other. He sniffed the air suspiciously, before saying, "I hope I'm not interrupting anything important."

The two glanced over, Roxas blushing and abandoning his seat, hooking one leg back over and standing, scratching at his head. "Hi, Zexion. How was – breakfast?"

"Sustaining." He arched an eyebrow at the suddenly grumpy Axel. "Should I assume that the last half-hour was wasted on Roxas, or has he actually gained some knowledge about Twilight Town since we last met?"

"Hey, I'm a good teacher," the redhead pouted. "I told him a heap of stuff." He looked imploringly at the blond. "Tell him, Roxie."

"Uh…" Roxas was flustered. "He, uh – told me about… the computer. And the network, and… stuff…"

"Very impressive," Zexion drawled. He pursed his mouth at Axel, eyes narrowing, then shrugged. "Since you two seem to have some excess energy stored up, why don't we take this outside? Maybe once Roxas has cleared his mind, he'll be more eager to learn _facts."_

Axel brightened immediately. "Am I teaching Roxie to fight?"

"Actually, _I _am. You can be his target practice."

The redhead was already up and bouncing. "Fine, fine, who fucking cares? We're going outside!"

Roxas was snatched up, dragged by his hands to the doorway, Zexion already in the lead. This time, he was taken a different route, a way he hadn't been before, and couldn't hope to find on his own. They exited into a large garden inside a courtyard. It was mostly overgrown, with ancient trees bending gracefully here and there, and a dilapidated stone bench nestled against one corner. In the centre of the lawn, a section had been mown out, the size of two struggle fighting rings.

"This is – nice," Roxas said, glancing around. "This'd be a good place to relax."

"Relax?" Axel snorted, laughed. "That's not exactly its purpose, Roxie."

"This is where we train for combat, Roxas," Zexion informed him. "A large part of being a technician is being physically capable of defending and attacking without compunction."

Roxas' eyes widened. "Attacking? What's that got to do with looking after a computer town?"

Axel laughed bitterly. "You want to know another reason why Zanarkand wants DiZ out of the way? They want Twilight Town."

"It's true," Zexion agreed quietly. "The technology, the lives they could bend to their will – it sings to them. Of course, none of the raids upon the castle are ever official, it would be more than enough cause for DiZ to reincite the violence of the war – but they come with disturbing regularity, either to go for DiZ or the system."

"Yeah, so it's up to us to keep things under protection," Axel said, voice hard. He smiled slightly at the blond, a strained expression. "Guess I should've told you that earlier, but I didn't think of it. Are you okay with fighting, Roxie?"

"It's honestly okay if you aren't," Zexion broke in quickly, visible eye earnest. "It's not necessary for you to be an attacker. Since both Kairi and Naminé would be easily overpowered, they work in a different section of the mainframe."

Axel snorted. "Yeah, but the rest of us fight." He frowned. "Roxie'll fight, won't you?"

"Axel," Zexion warned. Roxas shook his head, held up a hand.

"No, it's okay, he's not being pushy – he knows I already have some training." He grinned at Zexion's mild surprise. "I haven't done a struggle tournament in a couple years, but in Twilight Town, me and Hayner entered every year since we were ten. I'm not afraid to fight."

Axel made a noise of satisfaction. "You see? I know my Roxie. He'll be an asset, just you wait and see."

Zexion humphed, clearly unhappy with Axel's attitude, but allowed the moment to pass. "In that case, Roxas, your giant keys have been sharpened, and are waiting over by the bench."

Axel went with him, and sure enough, there were the keyblades, lying in the grass, polished up and sharp. The redhead gave a low whistle, seeing them in the light, more a weapon now than they had been that night on the clock tower. His chakrams sat against the side of the bench, hidden by the weeds. As he heaved them up, he admired Roxas'. "Lookin' pretty, Roxie, very pretty. Hey, Zex!" he called across the clearing.

On the other side, a stopwatch in hand, face creased into a thoughtful frown as he pressed various buttons, Zexion glanced up. "What?"

"Who made Roxas' keyblades so sparkly?"

"Sora," he replied distractedly. "He liked them. I think he said something about making some for himself."

Roxas picked them up, feeling a stab of familiarity, of loss. His dad had made them, but not the dad he thought he remembered. Some other version of the man, a flesh-and-blood one that had raised him until his death right here in Hollow Bastion. He didn't know if he wanted Sora trying to mimic the design of the keyblade – it was – it belonged to Roxas. He had just discovered that this was… Well, he'd left everything else behind, hadn't he?

This was all he had left to remind him of – of _any _parents.

"Roxie?" Axel sensed his mood change, eyed with him concern. "Everything okay in there?"

Roxas smiled a little, sad. "Yeah, I'm fine. Just thinking." He glanced down at the blades, lifted them high to have a good look at them. He wasn't used to seeing them in such good repair. He was relieved to see, however, that the chips from his wood-chopping venture were still there. He didn't know how he'd end up feeling about Sora if the brunet had taken those away.

Axel spun his chakrams automatically, studying the blond. "Hey, look, if you don't want to fight – I didn't mean to force it on you."

"No." Roxas shook his head, frowned, then smiled. "No, it's nothing to do with that. I want to fight. I mean, think about it… Twilight Town is only okay because everyone lives in peace… Imagine if Zanarkand had got hold of it, and turned us all into – into whatever, soldiers or something. I need to defend them. I still have people in there who aren't ready to come out yet – they need protecting."

Axel nodded in understanding. "Hell, why do you think any of us are techies in the first place? It's to take care of Twilight Town, all the kids that would've been free in a better place and time. Not that they're all that young anymore, but you know what I mean."

"Yeah. I do." Roxas flipped the keyblades around, resting them on his shoulders, treading across the long grass away from the redhead. "It's why I'm doing it. I won't let Hayner, Pence and Olette down again."

He heard the sceptical, "Again?" from behind, but ignored it. Axel probably wouldn't understand – it's not like he cared about Roxas' friends to begin with. It had all been for Roxas' sake that he'd been there at all. Axel had made his pick, and Roxas had abandoned them in a heartbeat. They didn't even know that he'd left them, they were continuing their lives as if he'd never been there in the first place, but he was going to show them, once he picked them and drew them into the real world, that he'd done everything in his power to keep them safe. Just like Axel had done for him.

He reached the other side of the lawn, chose a position, and turned with determination. "So, I'm fighting Axel?" he asked.

Zexion, nearby, the watch apparently set and ready to go, nodded. He pulled up his jeans a little on his slim hips, eyes flicking to the timer, arms folding over his stomach. "That's correct. I'll coach you on your footwork and timing. I'm not exactly a swordsman, but I can tell you the theory, and Axel will make it come to life. Is that alright with you?"

"Sounds fine." Roxas frowned, preparing himself, gazing across at Axel, who was currently prying off his shoes, weapons discarded on the short grass. He threw them over by the stone bench, Roxas watching them bounce. When he next glanced over, he found himself with an eyeful of Axel skin.

"Oh, jeeze," he muttered. Then, raising his voice, asked, "What're you doing?"

"I'm strippin' for your benefit, Rox," came the cheerful call. "Zexy or no Zexy, I figured it was time you and I moved to the next level in intimacy. Cool with you?"

"Actually, I'd advise you to take your shirt off, too," Zexion said. "Axel's perversions aside, it's a sweaty business, and your shirt will be ruined until the next laundry day."

"Oh." Hesitating, deciding that Zexion wasn't going to make him expose himself to Axel without undue cause, he grabbed the hem of his shirt and pulled, peeling it from his torso.

"_Whoo! Roxiiie! Take it off!"_

Roxas shot him a dirty look, tossing the material to one side. "Shut up, asshole."

The redhead grinned, bouncing across the grass, chakrams once again in hand. "Oh, man, I am so happy right now."

Zexion lifted his eyes to the sky, sighing. "Just don't get too excited, Axel, I don't think my eyes could handle it."

Cheerily, he replied, "No guarantees there, Zexy, Roxie's looking pretty fuckin' hot."

Roxas shook his head. "Aren't you meant to be attacking me right about now?"

Axel brightened. "Better yet, screw the weapons – let's wrestle!"

Zexion let out a groan of frustration. "Need I remind you that Demyx would wet himself like a puppy if I told him he could have this job with Roxas?"

Axel hesitated, halfway across the garden, the spikes from his weapons glinting in the sunlight. "…Would you then give him the job?"

"Yes. I would."

Axel pouted. "You take the fun out of everything." He threw his hands up, a heavy task with the wheels. "Fine! No molestation."

"Thank you, Zexion," Roxas hissed in gratitude.

"I didn't do it for you," the other man muttered back. Voice rising, "All right, Axel, you know how to do it. Roxas, just go for him. If you've already got practice with the struggle bats, you shouldn't be too far off with the keys."

"Key_blades," _Axel corrected. He twirled the chakrams, a glint entering his eye, shoulders slumping into their rolling position, loosely swinging. "Okay, Roxie, let's see what you've got when you're _not _in a rage."

Zexion pressed a button on the timer. "Go."

Axel attacked. Roxas yelped, flailing backward as the redhead streaked across the clearing in a matter of seconds, chakrams twisting toward his flesh. _"Fuck!" _He sprawled onto his back, metal points touching his skin just below the collarbone a split second later. Axel stared down at him with a slight grin in place.

"Pay attention, Rox. I win this round."

Astounded, the blond turned his head, demanding loudly of Zexion, "Is that what's meant to happen? I didn't even get a chance to fight back!"

The slate-haired man shrugged. "It's the real world, remember? We do real fights, and those are some pinpricks of real blood on your chest."

"_What?" _Roxas glanced down, and sure enough, twin beads of ruby were welling from where the chakrams had touched. He glanced up furiously. "Axel, you made me _bleed!"_

"This isn't a struggle tourno, Roxie," the redhead sang smugly, spinning his weapons to emphasise the point. "Don't worry, I'm sure Sora made your pretty keys more than able to return the favour."

"He'd better have," the blond snarled, clambering to his feet, brushing away the scarlet drops.

"Wait for the stopwatch, Roxas," Zexion commanded mildly, once again fiddling with it. Roxas readied himself, glaring across at the steadily smirking redhead, who alternately winked and stuck his tongue out.

"Go."

This time, Roxas was prepared, slashing out with the keyblades as Axel hurtled forward. Metal clashed with metal, the redhead dancing back, Roxas pressing forward with a stabbing motion, only to find that Axel had moved completely out of range.

"_Watch for it," _Zexion advised. "Keys up, straight at the sky, hold hard, Roxas!"

A moment after the words touched the air, Axel wound up and released his chakrams, sending them spinning across the field. Roxas had barely enough time to fling himself to the ground, the deadly wheels cutting the air above him, embedding seconds later in the wall of the castle.

"_Holy fuck!" _He sat up, gasping for air, eyes wild. "Are you _trying _to kill me?"

"I'm long-range as well as short, Roxie, get used to it," Axel said. He sauntered past the blond to go tug the weapons free. Zexion reset the timer.

"Ready when you are," he called. Axel returned to his previous position.

"Remember what Zexy said. Stick em up, Rox." He winked.

"Go."

This time, when the chakrams came spinning through the air, Roxas let out a yell and blocked them. They crashed into the keyblades and bounced off in separate directions. Roxas dropped the keys, hands in agony. _"Shit! Shit, shit, shit! My hands!" _He raised his head, snarled, "You fucking bastards!"

"Not bad," Zexion commented dryly.

Axel went to each side of the garden, recovering each chakram. "More?"

"Roxas, you need to pick up your giant keys."

"_They're key-fucking-blades!" _Roxas bent, forced his fingers back around the metal, hefted them back up, glaring hatefully at the redhead, who was beginning to look guilty.

"Hey, Roxie, this afternoon I'll take you into town, okay?"

"I don't think I fucking _want _to, Axel," the blond snapped. "That's the last time I give you sympathy kisses!"

"And Axel's love-life fell instantly down the drain," Zexion muttered from the sidelines. "Okay, go."

This time, Roxas led the charge, Axel waiting. His feet flew across the grass, mind flashing back to his last night in Twilight Town, trying to draw on whatever instincts that had let him hold his own, however briefly it may have lasted. He struck, first with one blade then the other, at different points of the redhead's body. Axel deflected them easily, flicked the chakrams up, drew thin cuts along Roxas' abdomen, from his hips to his ribs, making him gasp. There was regret in the green eyes as Roxas drew back, confused and angry.

"What was that?"

"Roxas, the timer is still on," Zexion called. "You need to continue."

"He _cut _me," Roxas protested.

"Then cut him back."

The blond bristled, glaring, then abruptly threw the keyblades down, letting them bounce away, abandoning the fight. "What is going _on?" _he demanded. He whirled on the redhead, who had lowered his weapons. "This is sick! I didn't give up my shirt to save it from getting sweaty, it was to keep it from falling apart!" He reached down in disbelief, fingers cupping his stomach, catching the crimson. It smeared across his golden skin. He raised his eyes, bewildered. "What did you do that for, Axel? You didn't have to hurt me!"

"Actually, he does," Zexion interjected, approaching them. "It's part of the training, Roxas. If you can't handle it, you have to forfeit the right to fight."

"I won't let anyone else do this to you, Rox," Axel said quietly. "If I don't do it properly, DiZ'll put someone else on the task. I've got good control, I promise I'll only ever scratch you."

"So – if I want to fight, I have to fucking bleed everywhere?" he clarified angrily. "What the fuck is _wrong _with DiZ? Did this happen to you, too? Does everyone get hurt?"

"You'll get hurt worse by the soldiers," Axel muttered. "You need to learn that if you don't fight well, you're in pain. Roxas, this is _part _of it."

"Why didn't you tell me?" the blond hissed. "At least you could've given me an idea what I was getting myself into."

Axel hesitated, drawing back slightly. Neither of them was sure whether Roxas meant now, or back in Twilight Town. Either way, Roxas was pissed. He was sorely tempted to tell both men to go fuck themselves – he didn't mind the pain so much, it was the ridiculousness of the situation that boiled his blood, and the complete and utter lack of warning. God, he so _wanted _to tell them to just forget it – but holding him back was the desire to be one of them.

He _wanted _to be a techie, no matter what he'd suggested to Axel about leaving Hollow Bastion someday, and he _wanted _to fight – he _had _to. Because if there were people trying to get hold of Twilight Town…

He couldn't let that happen to his friends. He couldn't let those simple, happy people be twisted.

He hissed again, wordlessly, glaring slits at Axel. Then he retrieved the keyblades, stomped back to take up his position, ignoring the sting on his stomach, and readied himself for the next round.

"Roxas, I'm sorry," said Axel quietly.

"Shut up," he said harshly. "Just shut up, and cut me again."

The session with Zexion and Axel continued for an hour in total.

The blond bled.

A lot.


	17. Chapter 17

**A/N: **Holy crap, you guys! Look at how many _reviews _there are! I spent _two hours _replying to them all this morning, and it was two of the coolest hours of my life, simply because I spent the whole time _grinning! _I've come to the conclusion that hardcore AkuRoku fans are more voracious than RikuSora ones, because this fic is only in its third week, compared to Water's six, and we just overtook it! Also, thanks for the awesome fanart I've been receiving – you have NO idea how cool I find it. I am one happy chappette. :D

Okay, so, in today's chapter I hate myself a _lot _less – it's vastly improved, far more coherent. I switched between paper and screen, which is why it's taken a little longer to post – all that typing up of pages :S So, hope you enjoy!

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CHAPTER SEVENTEEN

Roxas' head pounded as he left the garden, a hot, steady throb. The bruises on his face seemed to possess a heartbeat all of their very own, and every pulse brought pain.

He hunched his shoulders, feeling the material of Axel's shirt scrape against the criss-cross of cuts adorning his flesh, already damp and clinging with residue sweat, with blood. His expression was firmly fixed, an emotionless façade covering the depth of his distress and confusion. The keyblades hung heavy in his grasp, slippery against his palms. He needed water, and bed, stomach burning slightly in sympathy with his skull, but his lessons with Zexion were to continue after lunch. He had several hours until then, to see Aerith and receive treatment for the numerous, Axel-gifted gashes. Zexion had apparently realised, too late, that Roxas shouldn't have been indulging in such strenuous activity the day after a concussion.

Axel moved silently beside the blond, insisting on walking him back to his room before fetching Aerith to tend to him. He stayed despite Roxas' strained lies that he could make it on his own. Sensing the lack of forgiveness in the air, Axel was not attempting to further explain the necessity of bloodshed in training. Roxas simply didn't want to know.

The door banged against the wall as Roxas thrust it open and stalked through, Axel hovering at the doorway. He watched uncertainly as the blond sat upon the bed, wrenching off his shoes, eyes fixed as slits as he refused to glance up at him.

"I'll go – get Aerith, I guess," he said awkwardly, hands sliding absently up and down the doorframe. He reached up to touch the thin keyblade slit along his cheek, the one blow the blond had managed to land. Roxas picked up his weapons from the mattress, threw them noisily into the corner of the room, crawled in his clothes and socks under the covers, and firmly turned his back on the redhead.

The door clicked shut, leaving Roxas alone with his anger. His teeth were gritted together, from pain, from sickness, the room swimming slightly, the wall in front of him seeming to sway. Every time he closed his eyes, he saw chakrams, and skin, and green blurred with red. With each blink, his heart quickened, as Axel once again launched himself across the clearing…

How could he have stood there so confidently while Roxas had claimed that struggle, _struggle, _had provided _any _measure of training? Was he being condescending, or just blindly faithful that the blond would deal with blood the same way that he and Hayner had compared bruises once upon a time?

Tears sprang forward, born of exhaustion and rage, frustration that Axel could ever be so stupid as to think that Roxas would calmly accept this situation with any version of aplomb. He rubbed the moisture away, berating himself for the weakness. Facts, right? Fact: he was… he just – he _wanted… _

He wished that it was a year from now already. He wished he had his friends out here with him, being normal and nice. It was such a conflict, wanting them, wanting freedom. Why couldn't he have just been content? Why would no one let freedom just – be the answer?

This day… it had been so long already.

He drifted slowly, eyes slipping shut against his will. He had to stay awake for Aerith, but every muscle in his body, his sore, aching eyes – everything was clamouring for rest. He tasted dirt, closed his eyes to see Axel, hearing vicious whispers in his ear…

The tears returned, unstoppable this time. His chest hitched, breaths becoming unsteady as slow trickles ran across the bridge of his nose to dampen the pillow, his hair. He curled slowly, arms holding his stomach, fingers digging in despite the cuts. Eyebrows drawn, he whimpered, _"Mom." _Hands formed fists, he lightly punched his stomach against the pressure welling within. "Damn it," he hissed. "Leave me alone. She's dead, she never _existed." _He pressed his face miserably into the bed, adding softly, "Get over it."

In this twisted, torn, broken state, Roxas fell into a doze, damp eyelashes flickering against his cheeks listlessly. His forehead grew hot, buried and covered as he was.

_Get over it._

In his brief, swooning dream, he was a little boy with a boat. The boat was made of wood. Another boy was there, with red hair forced back into a hair-band, and acid-green eyes. He had a boat, too, different to Roxas', and was attempting to show the blond how one could tug the other… And there were voices in the background, soft and feminine, and a baby was coughing out the first needy sounds of a cry…

A cool hand touched his forehead, just as one of the voices whispered in his memory. His lips parted, he murmured, "Mom?"

"Roxas, it's time to wake up."

His eyes opened, focusing blearily on the woman bending over him, a concerned smile lighting her features. "Aerith…" He blinked, scraping at his eyes, sitting clumsily. "Sorry," he muttered. "Fell asleep."

"That's fine," she said gently. She straightened, feeling his cheek with her wrist. "How are you feeling?"

He sighed, crossing his legs, pulling the blankets into his lap, clearing a space for her to sit. As she did, he propped his elbows on his knees, catching his face, careful of the bruises. "I don't really know right now. I feel hot, and sick."

"When Axel came and got me, he didn't tell me what was wrong. I got the feeling he didn't want to talk about it… Is everything alright with you two?"

Roxas laughed harshly, a bitter noise. He pulled up his shirt, shoulders already stiffening from the new use of muscles, the blood drawing tight across his chest. "Does this answer your question?"

At first, Aerith didn't speak. Her skin went pale, her eyes wide, and for a moment, Roxas thought that maybe she was going to cry. Oh, fuck, he couldn't handle that. If Aerith cried, he would cry. And then she'd want to know why he was crying. And he'd…

He closed his eyes sharply, breaking off the train of thought. He didn't want to think about it anymore. He didn't need for that sensation to rise once again.

Aerith had a hand over her mouth, but the air waves rolling around her weren't unhappy or distressed – Roxas felt anger, and it wasn't his own. He looked up with surprise as the woman's bright eyes dimmed and darkened, brows pulling together, fingers trembling over her lips. "He did this to you? Axel did this?"

"It was…" Roxas eyed her uncertainly. "Part of training."

"I know what it was," she snapped, making him jump. Angry Aerith? Where was this coming from? He didn't think she was capable of anything beyond a stern but gentle reprimand. She glared at him, the hand coming down to press against her chest, mouth severe. "Roxas, what were you thinking? It hasn't even been a day since you were attacked! Do you realise that this time yesterday, you were still fine? This time yesterday, you _didn't _have a concussion, and those bruises _weren't _on your face. And now – now you're fighting in the garden? Did it occur to you, to _anyone, _that you need a restful day? A _few _days, Roxas!"

"I – no one told me," he defended, drawing his knees up, hopeless against the assault. It was too foreign for him to be able to protect himself. He felt every sharp word like a stinging slap. She wasn't even saying anything horrible – just – just telling him off. But damn it, he didn't know what to do. He couldn't stop the words from hurting.

Aerith's rage compounded, eyes becoming even wider. Any second now, steam was going to come shooting from her ears. "They didn't _tell _you? What do you mean, they didn't _tell _you?"

"I didn't know they were going to cut me… I thought it was just… teaching me how to fight," he explained, voice small.

"You shouldn't have been fighting at all!" she cried. "Goodness, Roxas, who on earth is mentoring you? The entire reason you were allowed to leave the Committee was because you kept getting hurt, you were straining yourself!" Her hands formed fists on her knees, eyes narrowed. "I am – _ooh! _I am so _mad _right now." She stood, smoothed her skirt, got her medical kit from its place beside the bed and unzipped it with quick, sharp motions. As she tugged out cotton balls and the small bottle of rubbing alcohol from only yesterday, she demanded, "Well? Who was it? Who's in charge of your technician training?"

"Uh…" Roxas fidgeted. "It's Zexion."

She nodded curtly. "Axel is lucky, then," she said tightly. "Zexion is very smart, but he has no idea how to condition a new trainee. I'll have to speak with DiZ about this. It's simply unacceptable."

"I – uh – " Roxas felt a flash of panic. "But, Axel already spoke to DiZ. It's the whole reason why we're allowed to be together now, instead of just at mealtimes. If you go and complain, he might change his mind and put me back with the Committee."

"Quite frankly, I think that would be best," she stated, sitting abruptly on the mattress, pulling the covers from Roxas' clutching fingers to expose his flesh from the hips upward. She unscrewed the cap, soaked one of the fluffy white buds, and started streaking the fluid across his chest. A trickle of it went dribbling down, coloured pink. The rust-red flakes were dislodged, the smearing polished away, until only the gashes were left, some of them gaping. She hissed softly upon seeing the full extent of the damage, while Roxas turned his eyes heavenward and absorbed the pain. He knew better than to try and argue with Aerith. He'd have a better chance once she'd calmed down.

Despite her obviously rising frustration, her care was as gentle as always, far different to Axel's angry ministrations upon learning of Roxas' attack. The blond wondered sourly if he would've felt better being the one to do that, too. It seemed that, in the redhead's mind, being the one to inflict made all the difference. Somehow, that was meant to make things okay.

It took almost an hour, as long it had taken for them to be gouged into life, for Aerith to finish cleaning each shallow wound. Some of them were deeper than he expected. Axel's control had wavered the further into the session that they'd got, the angrier Roxas' blows became.

"I'm glad," said Aerith at last, after such a long, tense silence, "that you at least got him back. I saw that cut on his face. Bravo." Her voice was cold. Roxas wasn't sure if she was being genuine, or caustically sarcastic. Aerith didn't seem the type to use sarcasm in any shape or form, but in her current incarnation, mother nature's fury, she had become an unpredictable force. He wouldn't have thought her capable of actually applauding him for hurting someone, either, no matter the circumstances. He decided it was wiser to keep his mouth shut.

Eventually, once the stinging burn of the disinfectant became commonplace, Aerith halted, gathering the soiled buds and disposing of them in a small plastic bag. She replaced the rubbing alcohol into the kit, and zipped it all back up. She placed it in her lap, hands folding gracefully across her knees, and closed her eyes.

"All right," she said quietly. "I'm calm again. I'm not happy, but I'm calm. So." She looked over at him steadily, lips pressed slightly together. "What are we going to do about this, Roxas? Because I'm afraid I can't let this happen a second time."

Roxas blinked. "But – if I don't let them hurt me, I can't become a fighter. I want to protect Twilight Town, Aerith."

Her gaze grew hard. "Roxas, it's really not necessary. Twilight Town is already well protected."

"But I want to _help," _he argued. "My friends are still in there. I'm not going to expect other people to do what I won't or can't. I can _do _this, Aerith, I just – I need to get better. Then Axel won't cut me so often."

"Roxas…" She took a deep breath, sighed. "I know you worry about your friends. That's natural. But – " Her eyes softened at long last, the anger truly leaving. "You need to consider the fact that Twilight Town isn't a part of your life anymore. Not unless you choose to make it so. You're _out _now." She bent forward slightly, peering under the bangs obscuring his eyes as he lowered his head. "You're free, Roxas, and that's what you wanted. Your friends might _never _leave – that's a possibility. DiZ is keeping Twilight Town going until it's no longer populated. He's not going to tear people from their happy lives to exist somewhere so much colder – not when they're content where they are. So, do you see?" She frowned, pushing his hair aside, tucking the spikes behind his ear. She tipped his chin up to meet her gaze, saw the uncertainty behind the grim expression. "Wouldn't you rather leave Twilight Town to those who have invested so much in it, and build a life all of your own? You don't need to hang on anymore. You're _allowed _to let that period of your life _go."_

"No." Roxas spoke instantly, not allowing the idea to settle and take root as an option. "I want to do this. I want to stay with Axel, and help take care of Twilight Town. I owe it to them – to everyone. I – I can't just go out and live happily knowing that my friends are trapped…"

"_Are _they, though?" the brunette asked cautiously, placing her hand over his and squeezing. "How do you know they're trapped, Roxas?"

"They're _in _there, aren't they?" he replied, frustrated. "That means they're stuck!"

"I'm sorry, but I think you're misunderstanding entirely," Aerith said firmly, straightening. "It's not a prison, it's a sanctuary. The entire reason you've lived a calm, happy childhood is because of Twilight Town. Yes, you found yourself growing restless, and I understand that you're appalled by the fact that your home all these years was just a simulation, but what's right for you isn't necessarily what's right for everyone else. That's something you need to learn to accept: your friends may very well exist in Twilight Town for another seventy years, and die happily in their beds." She curled her fingers around his, pulling his gaze to her face. Frowning, she asked, "What will you do _then, _Roxas? Assuming you live as long as they do. What will you do when your reason for staying here is gone?"

Roxas' heart thundered in his chest, sending fresh waves of pain through the various sections of his body. That this responsibility could last his whole life long hadn't occurred to him. All he wanted was to be with Axel, be worthy of the love he offered, live up to that opinion the redhead had formed of him, while protecting the same people he had already abandoned once… Could he really face leaving them a second time? And if he did, would Axel even want to join him, regardless of the emotion between them?

He'd already glimpsed that morning that leaving Hollow Bastion wasn't something Axel desired. This wasn't just about Roxas. This wasn't just – it wasn't something Aerith could just talk him out of, or – or into. This was bigger than one discussion, vaster and more important than the slashes marring his flesh. She was singing soothing songs of ultimate liberty, but how could Roxas ever cope alone in a world he hadn't known the existence of prior to the last few weeks? And besides – was he even really trapped?

"My reason for staying?" he murmured, eyebrows knitted. He closed his eyes briefly, saw Axel coming at him over the grass, shook his head sharply. "My reason for staying isn't Twilight Town. It's Axel, and – it's Hayner, Pence, Olette. I want to stay near them. All of them." He swallowed thickly. "If the day comes where I don't feel like my life is – is working out the way I want, I'll think about it, Aerith, I will. But until then – I'll do whatever I can to be allowed to stay. I'll fight," he added softly, "because they can't fight for themselves. It'll be worth it if they're allowed to die in their beds And – and maybe I'll die in mine, right here in the castle, but… at least – I mean, I hope – it'll be with Axel beside me. That – makes it all – okay. Don't you think?"

She watched him for a long moment, expression heavy, compassionate, sad but somehow with a glint of pride threaded through like gold. And he could – Roxas could imagine that same expression on Axel's face. And all of a sudden, that's all he wanted, or needed. He desperately wanted Axel to know that… he'd made the right _choice _with Roxas. His faith might be overblown in the blond, but it wouldn't be misplaced. Roxas would live up to this. He would rise to it, and make their lives okay.

"I understand," Aerith said quietly. She smiled slightly, worried, but allowing Roxas his decision, reassured at least by the openness of his thoughts.

"Thanks," he muttered. He drew his feet together, rocking awkwardly for a moment.

"Are you hungry at all?" Aerith asked softly. "I know it hasn't been that long since breakfast, but the rest of the Committee is eating earlier today. They're going out this afternoon, and won't have time to sit with everybody else. You can at least join us, can't you?" She smiled. "Everyone misses you, you know."

Roxas could imagine who 'everyone' was, but he found himself nodding. With his head so full, he could do with a bit of space from Axel, at least until the cuts stung less. He was still tired, but it wouldn't be bad at all to be around some cheerful, crazy company for a while. "Sounds good," he agreed, with a weary smile.

Successfully mollified, Aerith stood, went to the wardrobe, frowning at the sparse selection. "You have clothes of your own on the way, Roxas. I ordered them in town the other day. The deliveries are due tonight, so you'll be set up by the morning."

"Oh – thanks," he said, genuinely pleased. It was a step forward, if nothing else.

She handed him the last shirt on the hanger, eyed his filthy, blood- and dirt-smeared jeans with distaste, and, once he was fully dressed again, they left for the dining hall.

The first thing that came flying at him was Yuffie, calling his name as if they had been separated by years of ocean. Tifa whirled around, hair fanning out, a delighted smile upon her face, while Cloud, Leon and Cid glanced up from their places by the coffee maker.

The joy was short-lived, as Yuffie screeched to a halt, eyes narrowing suddenly, a foot away from the blond. Aerith had intervened, stepping quickly in front of him, keeping the girl from pummelling his new injuries.

"What's going on?" Yuffie asked, half offended, half suspicious. She peered past the pink-clad woman at Roxas, who stood awkwardly, trying not to look as pathetic as he suddenly felt.

"Roxas just needs some time to recover," Aerith said neutrally. Roxas was relieved – despite her anger, she wasn't ratting him out to the rest of the Committee. He could only imagine the witch-hunt that would ensue if Yuffie caught wind of the fact that he'd been injured again already. Of course, she'd find out eventually once she got his shirt off for his next massage, but he preferred that than having the entire room finding out right after the fact.

He sat at their table, ushered over by Tifa, Yuffie still glancing at him sideways, doubtful of Aerith's concerns.

"How are you?" Tifa asked anxiously, taking his hand and patting it while Aerith went to talk to Leon. Roxas watched nervously, wondering what the flower-obsessed woman was saying. He forced his attention to Tifa with a strained smile. "How am I? Uh, fine, I guess. I'm doing okay."

"Heard you've joined the technicians," Cloud said quietly, sitting down in his usual place on the other side of the black-haired woman. Roxas leaned forward slightly, looking past her to meet his gaze.

"Yeah. DiZ got rid of the punishment after what happened in the valley."

"I don't know why," he replied, taking a slow mouthful of coffee. "You could've still done some good this week. We could've found you something quiet to do, folding laundry or taking lists of the inventory."

"I guess," Roxas hedged. "But I'm glad I get to be – "

"We sure wouldn't have let you get cut up like that," the older blond interrupted in a low voice. Roxas' eyes widened, hands going instantly to his shirt, checking himself over with momentary panic. "Nothing's showing," Cloud said calmly, as Tifa frowned.

"Roxas? What's Cloud talking about?"

"Come on, Tifa," the man scoffed slightly. "You've been here way longer than me. You know how the techies fight."

"You mean dirty?" Yuffie interjected, having heard the last part. Cloud pointed a finger in agreement, drank more coffee.

Tifa turned to Roxas, hazel eyes large with comprehension. "Show me," she commanded.

Roxas sighed, chin dropping. He shook his head. "No." He glared over at Cloud. "How do you even know?"

"Saw you in the garden," he responded neutrally, before tacking on, "And here I thought you left us because you were pissed about getting hurt."

Yuffie realised what was being discussed, nodded sharply. "So they've started already?" She turned on Roxas, echoing Tifa. "Show me."

Roxas stubbornly refused. "It's not a big deal." He was regretting coming along, wondered if this had been Aerith's plan all along in a bid to further separate him from Axel.

"He's pretty bad," Cloud told them flatly. "I didn't even see the full extent of it."

"Damn it, will you shut _up,"_ Roxas hissed. "It's none of your damn business!" He clamped his arms over his stomach, as though afraid someone would try to force his shirt up.

"It is too our business," Yuffie insisted heatedly. "You're our friend, and I, for one, am not going to stand by and let those idiots hurt you!"

"I agree," added Tifa darkly, twisting sideways to face the teen more fully. "Their methods are ridiculous, Roxas!"

"I'm _aware _of that!" Roxas was overwhelmed by a sense of frustrated futility – all of these people said the exact same things, over and over! He _understood – _bleeding was bad. Training was fucked up. He wasn't happy about it, but neither was he going to back _down. _

"Leave him alone." Leon's voice cut through the friction, drawing the attention of the table as he approached. Not glancing at the teen, he continued, "Roxas has as much right as anyone to become a technician. Their methods are tough, but they haven't lost the Twilight Town core yet, and his addition can strengthen them. That's good, wouldn't you agree?"

"But _we _patrol sometimes," Yuffie argued, "and we never had to go through some bullshit pain resistance training!"

"We already knew how to fight," Leon reminded her. Her next irate comment was restrained by his cutting look. "Leave Roxas alone," he repeated firmly. "He's made his choice. If you want to be a good friend, support him."

Obviously, Yuffie wanted to continue, possibly slap the blond around until he changed his mind, but Leon's presence was absolute, his tone brooking no argument.

"All I'll say," Cloud muttered at length, "is I'm glad I didn't try to become a techie."

"Fine," Leon replied. He turned his focus to Roxas. "Are you feeling okay? Your head?"

"Yeah – yeah, I'm okay," the blond said, startled by the unexpected aid.

"I meant to come see you sooner," he added, with an implication of apology, though to listen to his tone alone, Roxas wouldn't have guessed it. "But you had already left when I got to Axel's room."

Roxas nodded slowly. "Well, everything's fine. Axel's – taking care of me." He ignored Cloud's snort, the echo of his inner self.

"I'm glad," said Leon, inclining his head briefly. He sat, unpacking his ever-present folder of papers, and started making notes, slowly drinking coffee. Cid and Aerith arrived a minute later bearing platters, setting them in the middle of the table for anyone to help themselves.

"Leon, eat," Aerith, ever the mother of the group, admonished. Leon grunted, already deeply absorbed in his work, or at least appearing to be. Roxas wasn't sure that this wasn't, beyond the initial show of solidarity, Yuffie's predicted ignoring of him. Leon hadn't mentioned the attack, for all he was supposedly torn up about it. Then again, neither had Cloud, directly. Cid hadn't even looked at him. The three men were acting as if the previous day had never happened.

To be honest, Roxas didn't mind. He was feeling… drained. He really was wishing he'd just stayed in his room and slept. He wasn't even hungry, and watching the group eat while his stomach was as uncomfortable as it was wasn't helping his overall wellbeing.

At length, he lay his head against the table, on top of his folded arms. A hand rested gently against his back, Tifa, the warmth a comfort.

"If you want, Roxas, you can go," Aerith offered softly. He lifted his head, blinked sleepily across the table. She smiled. "I'm sorry for not realising how badly you need to rest. You have until after lunch, right?"

He nodded. "That's what Zexion told me."

At the mention of the man's name, her expression hardened, but the sweetness never left her eyes. "Go on, then. You can eat with us when you're feeling better."

"Yeah, as long as we don't kidnap you for your own good before then," Yuffie scowled.

"You really want Axel kicking down your door looking for him?" Leon murmured.

"Hah! As if he and his spiky wheels are any match for my ninja powers!" She frowned, flicked her fork at Roxas' face. "You listen to me, though – if I find out you're getting hurt too bad, I'm coming along, hear me? I'll teach you myself if I have to, I've got a decent amount of experience. You're not alone, Roxas. You've got a whole bunch of non-techie friends here to make it easier."

Roxas dipped his head, smiled as he rose. "Thanks. I'll keep it in mind." He meant it – if Yuffie really was some kind of ninja, maybe she could teach him some moves, at least speed him up a little.

He dug his hands into his pockets, feeling a little weak, and shuffled from the hall, back to Axel's room. As he opened the door, the redhead was waiting, sitting with his long legs crossed on the bed, shirtless again. He looked over quickly as Roxas entered. The blond hesitated.

"I was just… coming to take a nap before Zexion needs me again."

"Oh." Axel blinked, looked down at the bedspread. "I'll just – get out of your way then." He glanced up, eyed him. "Is that my last shirt?"

Roxas touched the material, tugging on it. "Yeah – Aerith said she got me some clothes, though. They're being delivered today I think. So… you'll have all your own stuff back."

He smiled slightly, unfolding himself, slipping from the mattress. "I don't know. I kind of like you in my clothes. Looks way cuter than on me."

Roxas caught sight of the slice along his cheek, studied it. "Does that hurt?" he asked abruptly. Axel frowned.

"Does what hurt?" Roxas touched his own face, tapping the area that mirrored Axel's. Axel reached up, ran a finger along its length. "Oh. Right." He shrugged. "Nah. It's not a problem, really. You don't need to worry about it."

"Never said I did," the blond replied shortly. He moved past Axel, pulling off his shirt, folding it messily and dropping it beside the bed for when he'd need it later. He felt the redhead's eyes upon him, ignored the burning sensation as he peeled back the covers, kicked off his shoes, climbed in and under.

"Did Aerith come?" Axel asked.

"Yes. She's pissed at you, and Zexion. I've never seen her so angry," Roxas added with a hint of spite, knowing that anyone who thought Aerith was mad at them would be upset. Indeed, Axel's face dropped, he looked worried.

"What did she say?"

Roxas toyed with the idea of stringing this out – torturing him just the slightest amount, making him squirm – but when he twisted, the tiny smirk leaked from his lips. Axel seemed – to really care. It was honestly bothering him. Then Roxas slowly realised: Aerith was a mother-figure. And, well… if anything, Roxas was luckier out of the two of them. He might have had to face the fact that his mother had never been real, but at least he'd grown up feeling loved. Axel had lost his family, and never had anything, false or otherwise, to replace that. Except for maybe Aerith. Momma Aerith.

Roxas was a lot of things, but he couldn't be deliberately cruel. He sighed, closing his eyes as he reclined against the pillow, the sheets cool against his skin. His fingers wandered over the valleys and peaks of the messy cover. "She was just mad that I got hurt again after yesterday. She wants to complain to DiZ, because Zexion doesn't know how to train someone, even if he knows all the theory." He opened his eyes, watched the green-eyed man think this through with a frown. "Did it happen to you, too? Did you get hurt learning how to fight?"

Axel hesitated. "Not necessarily… But I got hurt _in _a fight. I've got a scar on my thigh from it. Had it since I was fourteen. That was when I learned that – well, pain is _part_ of fighting. It's not like I'd never bled before, but… it's only been the last few years that things have settled down. Back before it did, it was all still pretty rough around here. DiZ – isn't the one that made the rule about the force. That was us. We decided it was best. It teaches you faster, see? And… if you can't handle it, you can't handle… you know. A real fight."

"Well, I don't think I agree," Roxas said curtly. Then he shrugged. "But whatever. If that's how it's going to be, I'll do it."

"Roxas…" Axel sagged a little, expression desperate. "I hate hurting you. I really do. You've gotta know that, right? It's not like I was enjoying all that. In the end, you'll know it was worth it. It'll all come good."

Roxas shut his eyes again, more than ready for that sleep. "Fine, Axel. I really don't care right now."

There was silence. Then, "Will you come out with me tonight? I – I wanted to take you somewhere."

Roxas turned his face to the man, without opening his eyes, and said, "Sure. Whatever. As long as I feel okay. Where to?"

"Just… somewhere I think you'd want to see."

Roxas nodded, sighed. "Okay."

Another several beats of quiet, before Axel awkwardly said, "Sleep tight, Roxie."

Roxas didn't reply, and soon was alone again.

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Zexion allowed Roxas an extra hour of sleep out of guilt, and when he next appeared, Demyx was on his arm, glowering. He marched into the room without bothering to knock, and tore the sheets from Roxas' torso, waking him with a yelp of fright.

The other blond cursed viciously, spun on his lover. "How could you do this to Axel's Roxie?"

"It was Roxie's Axel that did it," replied the man testily. "I didn't do anything except time them."

Demyx glared. "I told you already, Zexy, you're moving too fast. Roxas doesn't even know the basics of a fight!"

"He said he did that struggle tournament," Zexion attempted, but was cut off by a hand slicing the air.

"No. Uh-uh, no excuses. I'm taking over his training."

"_What?" _Roxas cried.

Zexion was less than pleased. "Demyx, I'm more than capable of this. As I recall, you hit me over the head with your guitar when _we _were training the first time, and you told me to suck it up."

"My _sitar _is rather different to Axel's chakrams," Demyx replied sharply. "As _I _recall, you didn't come out of that first session with enough scars to cover a war veteran."

"You're exaggerating," Zexion said.

"And you're not taking this seriously enough!" Demyx turned to the wide-eyed teen in the bed, blinking owlishly at the argument taking place. "Roxas, I'm so sorry," the blond said earnestly. "If I'd known what was going to happen, I would've come to supervise. Axel's never taught anyone before, and Zexy doesn't have enough experience to know what's right and wrong." He snorted briefly. "He fights with a _book."_

"That was _one time, _Demyx, and they caught me _off guard. _A good fighter takes advantage of his surroundings."

"Yes, dear," Demyx sighed. He looked down regretfully at Roxas. "Well, from now on, I'm co-mentor. I went straight to DiZ when I found out what happened, and he approved it."

DiZ was no doubt curious about the one boy who was causing so much conflict within his castle, after only a few short days. Roxas hoped the man wouldn't come to meet him officially. "Oh," Roxas croaked, throat still rough from sleep. "Okay." His stomach sank. "We're not going to do it again now, are we?"

Zexion answered, "No, Roxas, Demyx has informed me that the fighting will be postponed for a few days to allow you to recover from your attack… both yesterday _and _today…"

"Damn straight," the blond growled. He sat down heavily, bouncing the bed, making Roxas stifle a groan at the sharp motion.

"Thanks… Demyx," he coughed weakly. The other man brightened infinitely, his stern countenance melting back into its regular, happy self.

"Anytime, Roxie. It's great that I can be in on it!" He pouted momentarily. "I can't believe you guys didn't ask me _anyway." _Again, the sudden swing, he was grinning and bobbing slightly, fingers wriggling down at the half-naked teen as if going to tickle, but instead he demanded, "You're coming to poker night, right?"

"What?" Roxas asked blankly.

"Poker night! Me and Zexy are going!" He turned to the slate-haired man, argument completely forgotten. "Aren't we, Zexy?"

"Yes," Zexion agreed, for Demyx's sake as much as Roxas'. "Has Axel mentioned it to you, Roxas?"

The blond shook his head hesitantly. "Oh my God!" Demyx was overcome with excitement. "You _have _to come! It's _tonight!"_

"Oh… I think Axel wanted to take me somewhere tonight," Roxas said uncertainly. "He didn't tell me where, just said it was something I'd want to see. I don't know how long it'll take."

"Oh, that's okay," Demyx exclaimed. "Because poker night goes, like, _all night! _You guys can come whenever! Axel knows where to go!"

"I'm pretty sure you're the guest of honour, in fact," Zexion added dryly. "Didn't you say you'd never played?"

"Uh… I don't really…"

"You said in front of Luxord, that's the problem," Demyx interrupted. "See, now he's going to get you drunk and steal your clothes."

Roxas blinked. "He is?"

"We'll protect you, though," he added happily. Without giving the blond a chance to grasp this apparent threat, he bounced up again. "Come on, Axel's Roxie, out of bed, the day is calling, and we've got a techie to build!"

Roxas pulled himself up, crawled to where he'd dropped his shirt, tugged it over his spikes and climbed to his feet. Demyx instantly snatched up his arm, dancing from the room with the pair of them linked together, leaving Zexion to trail along behind.

"Demyx, be _careful _with him," Zexion called in irritation.

"Oh, like _you _can talk," the blond snorted back.

Roxas looked forward to the thought of getting drunk, even if it meant getting his clothes stolen. It would afford a while of oblivion... and at least it was Axel's shirt.


	18. Chapter 18

**A/N: **Haaa. I need to learn time management skills. Still, it's ready on time :) Another one I'm pleased with, again the balance of paper and screen, it really makes a difference as far as my satisfaction is concerned. I still hate sixteen. Maybe later I'll redo it, just give it a nice stripping edit. Thank you again for all the wonderful reviews, I'm practically dancing with glee when I wake up and find my inbox filled with all of _you _fantastic people :D Okay, so, enough ass-kissing (even if it _is _the truth). Hope you all enjoy!

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CHAPTER EIGHTEEN

It was getting dark by the time they left the castle. The sun had sunk below the many cliffs and mountains surrounding the castle and city, casting a dimness over the world. Stars were beginning to pierce the sky, one by glittering one, pinpricks of diamond against the deepening blue.

Roxas lifted his eyes, breathing the cool air deep into his lungs, hands sinking into the pouch pocket of his hooded sweater. Cold winds blew from the hollows of the chasms surrounding the castle, ruffling his hair silently, playing with it gently.

Axel watched him, hands in his own pockets, the same coat he'd tied Naminé with, scarlet spikes swaying, eyes cautious. He studied the blond, memorised every piece of him. Roxas looked so innocent, standing out here watching the sky. This was part of what drove Axel so crazy about him… the wide, wondering blue eyes, the element of purity even though Roxas was tough, could be aggressive, could hate as much as anyone else. He was… clean without being naïve, and in the dark world that Hollow Bastion was still only now tugging free of, that was like some kind of gem winking among the rocks… Axel's very own rose among thorns.

Roxas closed his eyes, feeling the freshness like a salve, soothing away the twisting that had possessed him almost the entire day. His chest quietened, muscles relaxing, and for the first time, there wasn't a sweat across his brow. In the end, he still hadn't felt great physically, but Axel had seemed… well, serious about this. This didn't feel like some frivolous trip for ice cream. Roxas tasted tension in the air, and a sobriety that the redhead rarely sported. Axel's eyes were… Roxas glanced sideways at him, gauging. They were wary, almost. There was a great watchfulness that made Roxas wonder where exactly they were going, and what he expected to happen.

"You ready?" Axel's voice was soft, barely carrying along the breeze, a faint rumble. Roxas sucked in a breath, wet his lips, frowned slightly and nodded.

"Yeah. Let's go."

They started walking, down the metal bracing patching the crumbled stone of the outer paths leading to the dirt road. The entrance to the castle was a blaze of activity contrasting the peace of the growing night, as the month's deliveries were transported into the castle. Roxas spied several members of the Committee helping out, heard Yuffie's strident voice calling commands as she leapt from one pickup truck into the tray of the next. He watched curiously, craning his neck to keep them in view for as long as possible. It seemed Aerith had made additional flower orders – he saw a florist's van parked to one side, panel door flung open, a series of arrangements packed in, becoming less as the delivery boy hooked them out one by one onto the packed dirt.

"_Yuffie! Get the fuck off my shoulders!"_

Cid's bellow followed them, earning chuckles from the pair as they passed out of sight, out of earshot.

Soon, there was only the crunching of their feet, the road familiar to Roxas now. Axel unhitched a hand from its warm burrow, running it through his hair, Roxas watching in fascination as the spikes simply bent and sprang back. He couldn't imagine his own hair growing to that length and maintaining its natural sticking-up quality.

"So, look," Axel said at last, breaking their mutual silence, breaking Roxas' focus. His green eyes flicked across the ground, reluctant to rise and meet the blue. "I never really apologised properly for what happened this morning. I should have told you. I – I would have, but… Like I said, I just didn't think about it." He shook his head, understanding that this was hardly any form of excuse to make things better. "It won't happen again, Roxas." His voice was so quiet. Roxas didn't think he could stand seeing the vibrancy so subdued like this. He just didn't seem like Axel.

His eyes shifted slowly over the redhead's features, face averted to keep from having to confront the blond's wrath. "You look so tired," said Roxas softly. Axel's face creased, head jerking slightly up, risking a quick sideways glance. "You still haven't slept?"

"Uh… I didn't really get the chance to," he muttered, kicking a small stone from his path. "It's fine, though. I'm not that bad."

"We can leave this for another time…" Roxas offered.

Axel straightened abruptly. "No! I mean, it's – I want to do this." He frowned. "This is important, Rox. Sleep can wait. I'm…" He hesitated. "I'm sick of you not knowing enough, and finding out somehow and getting pissed at me. I'm sick of fucking up. So – I'm doing it right this time."

Roxas shook his head. "Axel, you're not fucking up. You _haven't. _I mean…" He laughed a little, eyes rising once again to the sky. "You're the whole reason I'm even _out _here."

"Yeah, and you've had so much fun so far," Axel replied moodily. Roxas sighed, smiled, decided enough was enough, and moved closer to the redhead. He looped his arm around the narrow waist, startling him completely. For a long moment, Axel just stared slackly, not entirely aware of Roxas' purpose. Then surprise bloomed, his arm moved of its own accord to encircle the blond's shoulders.

"It's not horrible," Roxas said. "And it'll get better."

"Yeah…" Axel blinked, turned his face forward, hints of confusion and pleasure taking turns flashing in and out of his expression. In the end, he didn't question Roxas' generosity, just accepted it and hoped it would last.

The moon rose high overhead, illuminating the city of Hollow Bastion, creating a dark silhouette filled with sparkling lights. Roxas kept his gaze upon the twinkling, a small smile growing at the corners of his lips the closer they got, Axel's warmth seeping through the material of their layers to touch him. The parts of him that weren't connected to the redhead were cold in comparison, and lonely.

"So, what are we seeing, anyway?" he asked, a flutter of anticipation in his chest. In this reality, it could be almost anything. There was so much he didn't know about this place, so much that Axel had to show him. Hell, Axel could take him to a bar and it'd be a new, exciting experience. He wondered, considering the redhead's attitude, if it was something important to him. Something only Roxas was being allowed to see – some piece of his wild, happy spirit being revealed.

Axel smiled. "We're going to go see some people. Very important people." His eyes were gentle as he looked down at the blond. "I know you'll want to meet them."

People? Well – that was… less expected. Axel's grip on him shifted, drawing him nearer, the heat flowing from one body to the next becoming absolute.

"Are you interested in poker later?"

Roxas laughed nervously. "I don't know, should I be? From what Demyx said, I'll be lucky to wake up with anything more than a hangover."

Axel chuckled. "I'll protect you. Sit next to me, I'll teach you how to cheat." He tipped his head to the side. "…Not that I'm any good at it," he admitted. "Luxord always seems to catch me. Could be the fact that Demyx always sits on my other side, and giggles like a bitch when he knows I'm holding something up my sleeve."

Roxas laughed, shook his head. "I'll see what I can do on my own."

Axel's eyes widened. "Oh, boy, you have no idea what's coming, do you? Take my advice, Roxie – cheat your cute little pants off. Luxord is a _fiend." _

Roxas raised an eyebrow, shrugged. "We'll see."

Axel stared hard for a moment, then darted in and placed a kiss on his temple. "I'm sorry I hurt you," he said intently.

"Forget it," Roxas said blandly. "It's not like it's not going to happen again, so we may as well both get used to it." Then he grinned. "Besides, I've got Demyx on my side now. If you or Zexion try it again, he'll come after you."

"Like a rabid bunny on crack," Axel muttered with a shiver. "I'll be good, I promise."

The ground levelled out, footsteps clanging on the metal sheets, the walls held back, just like when he was with Aerith, but different in the darkness. Roxas felt a stab of anxiety, gaze lifting suddenly to dart back and forth, seeking hiding places, perches of observation… anything that might be concealing the attacker from the valley. He who followed Roxas and Aerith, close enough to eavesdrop. What if he was still out here? What if he had followed them from the castle, was right now piercing the gloom to watch the blond?

Roxas' fingers dug slightly into Axel's side, his other hand burrowing deep into his pocket, head lowering slightly as his breaths increased. Sensing his discomfort, Axel frowned down at him, glanced around. "Everything okay?"

"Fine," Roxas muttered. "It's not far to go til we get there."

Axel nodded slowly, rubbed a thumb against the blond's arm. They entered the Bailey at last, dusty footprints trailing in their wake, passing through the cold stone room, the open gates, up the stairs, around and down into the knot of housing. Axel chose the direction, away from the market district, his stride even, the hand on Roxas' shoulder becoming restless. He started shifting about, plucking at the shorter hairs at the back of Roxas' neck, sifting through the spikes, tugging the teen's earlobe absently. When Roxas squinted up at him, he wasn't even looking at the blond, eyes flitting from building to building, staring at the bright lights illuminating the streets and then blinking rapidly a few seconds later. His shoulders twitched minutely from side to side as the arm around Roxas' shoulders adjusted every couple of minutes. The anxious energy was infecting the blond, unnerving him.

"Who exactly are we seeing?" he asked with an edge. "Friends of yours?"

Axel shook his head quickly. "Not this time. There's a few people you should definitely meet, ones from Twilight Town like you who left the castle after a couple of years, but they're not what we're heading for."

People from Twilight Town lived down in the city? So not everybody felt the need to stay and protect the simulation… Did they just not care that there were still people living there? Or, like Aerith had suggested, were they leaving Twilight Town to the ones that had worked so hard for it, to finally have an existence all of their own? Naminé had done it, after all – even though she was a techie, she also travelled to draw the many magnificent sights. Roxas could understand that compulsion; after a lifetime of existing in an unreal world, boundaries like invisible walls sealing them in, the thought of seeing new sights, breathing foreign air, was an exciting, blood-stirring one.

But then there was Axel. Roxas glanced up as he shrugged again, grip loosening, neck rolling in a stretching motion, spikes brushing Roxas' face so that his nose scrunched up from the tickling sensation. He spluttered a little, earning a sheepish grin. "Sorry, Roxie."

"What's up with you?" the blond grumbled. "Pick a position and stay still."

Roxas mentally slapped himself as Axel launched into a full-out leer. "I prefer to use several positions and _grind, _Roxie. Shall I lead you to an alley and show you how?"

"Shall I lead my elbow to your face and teach it how to bleed?"

Axel scratched his head with his free hand. "That's a little more kink than I usually allow."

"Oh, really?" Roxas shot him an arch look. "So exactly how many predecessors do I have?"

Axel grinned, pinched his cheek in a condescending manner, ignoring the sound of protest from the blond. "Is Axel's Roxie jealous?"

"No," glared the teen, "but _Roxie's _Roxie would rather not stick his tongue into the anatomical equivalent of a chemical toilet."

Axel's eyes widened, green sparkling brightly. "Exactly where _were _you planning on putting your tongue, Roxas?"

Roxas groaned, shaking his head in defeat. Axel's smirk was broad, his arm tightening possessively around the blond and, for several minutes, his nervous energy was lost in the overwhelming smugness.

Gradually, Roxas noticed that the lights around them were dimming, becoming sparser, the road rougher. Just like when he had been with Aerith, it seemed that the further you got from the market district and the Bailey entrance to the city, the more broken down the surrounding structures became. Passers-by were less frequent, the distant noises of the city growing faint, until they were like spectral voices on the air. It was as though the blond and redhead were travelling slowly back in time, leaving the prosperity restored by the Committee, entering the damage of the years left behind, when Axel had been young and alone, Roxas yet to find his perfect, peaceful life to be a stifling purgatory.

He found himself moving closer to the redhead, clinging a little, fitting himself against the side of the other's body. Axel glanced down, held him reassuringly, gloved index finger briefly touching his face in a gentle reminder that he was safe. The past might have done its best to haunt the cold wind blowing through their clothing, flapping Axel's coat behind him, snapping quietly, but its essence was dead and gone.

As it became clearer and clearer that this wasn't a part of the city people tended to frequent, Roxas began forming an idea of where they might be heading. He grew still, and quiet, while at his side Axel began to fidget again.

The sidewalk was crumbling and crunching beneath their feet as they at last halted. Axel's hand restrained him from taking a further step, the blond looking up with curiosity, with trepidation. His eyebrows rose slowly as he realised what Axel had brought him to look at.

By the road, rusted with age, half collapsed, cold, dead and silent, sprawled a playground. He glanced uncertainly at Axel, who squeezed his shoulder gently, inclining his head in a gesture that said to enter the park.

Roxas' footsteps dulled as he left the pavement, sand and stray, loose rocks sinking under his weight. They passed a collection of eroded pipes that had once been a jungle gym, now a crushed skeleton. A see-saw sat illuminated by the moon, half snapped away under a giant rock that looked as if it had simply fallen out of the sky. Its splintered wooden edge pointed heavenward, and would continue to do so long after Roxas was gone. In one section stood a slide and swing-set, both almost untouched except for the years of obvious weathered neglect.

Roxas picked through with a nervousness in the pit of his stomach. It was so easy to imagine this cracked, broken-down play area whole again, filled with the cries and squeals of children. That it never would be again lent a haunted feeling to the air, as if these lonely, abandoned pieces of equipment retained the memories of all those who had passed through… and waited hopelessly for their return. Roxas drew to a halt in front of the swings, surveying it all with a sense of – of desolation, of loss. This playground felt more real to him than the idea of the war itself. This one place was proof positive that something that once had existed was no longer part of… _anyone's _lives. No one's but his, and Axel's, in this one moment.

Axel went to the first of the two swings, hands wrapping around the chains, head tilted back as he tugged hard and watched for signs of weakness. Apparently satisfied that it wasn't going to necessarily disintegrate under his weight, he cautiously turned, and lowered himself into the seat. The links gave a tired groan as they tightened for the first time in years. Axel's toes turned in slightly, giving him a boyish look as he carefully swung back and forth with his feet in the sand. Sitting there in the moonlight, in this hollowed-out place, the redhead looked… forlorn. He was a direct descendent of the chaos that destroyed this place. His memories belonged here, his own ghost flitting through.

He looked up, smiled slightly. "Roxie, come swing."

Roxas took the next swing over, feeling a prickle at the back of his eyes, fighting the urge to hitch in a sharp, sad breath. Yes, Axel's redheaded spirit danced in these ruins, a little boy with spikes forced back into a hair-band, and acid-green eyes. And he wanted Roxie to come play.

Axel began to swing a little higher, shoes scraping the dirt, heels digging furrows, small valleys. Roxas dangled in the other seat, watching him. "We used to come here, didn't we?" he asked, voice low, carrying easily in the stillness.

"Yep." Axel's long coattails flapped as he rose backwards, dragging along the sand as his momentum took him forward again. His legs were too long, feet catching the earth, stilting the journey, making him jerk. He frowned, slowed to a stop, stood, holding the chains and backing up. "You remember?"

He paused, waiting for Roxas' answer. The blond dipped his head. "I – I feel the ghosts."

Axel jumped a couple inches, sitting quickly, drawing his knees up as the swing shot forward. The links squealed in loud protest.

"Plenty of those around," he said loudly, breathlessly. He found a way to keep his momentum up without his feet getting in the way, built up a steady rhythm, climbing higher without fear of the whole thing just crashing down from above. Roxas eyed the top of the set warily, searching for signs of warping.

"We used to come here… with our moms…" Axel said, voice disturbing the fluttering phantoms, making Roxas wince. As he flashed past, he shot the blond a grin, eyes hopeful as he urged, "Swing with me, Roxie."

Roxas glanced up at his own chains, dubiously asking, "Do you think it'll hold?"

"Of course," the other blithely replied, swinging past again to prove it. Despite the hideous noises it was making, yes, the links were holding on. Roxas supposed that the worst that could happen was a hell of a bump if it turned out to be too weak for him. He started off carefully, as Axel had, just using his feet at first to test it out. Beside him, Axel's arcs grew broader, knees tucking up every time he neared the ground, then extending as he soared. Soon, Roxas' cautious swings joined him, the wind blowing past his ears, sending spikes of hair into his eyes with every backward sweep. It was cold, and slightly dizzying, and kind of frightening, and just a little bit fun.

"Higher, Roxas!" Axel commanded, reeling past. Roxas obeyed, increased his effort, stopped listening to the deathlike howls of the chains and concentrated on reaching Axel's level. They moved unevenly, Axel's feet finding the sky as Roxas' pointed to the sand. Their combined weight made the structure of the set thump slightly on the high point of every arc. Flakes of rust fluttered to earth, some of them getting inhaled, sending one or both of the boys coughing every now and then.

Axel adjusted his thrust slightly, shortening it for a moment while he waited for Roxas to reach him, then released. They soared together, suddenly in tandem, the chains snapping and creaking, the narrow seats cutting into their thighs, breaths coming out loud and focused as they climbed towards the stars. Roxas grew colder and colder, Axel's sweater thin against the air's friction. He fixed his eyes upward, head tilting back slightly, swimming in vertigo as his body flew back and forth.

"_Roxas! Look now! Look out!"_

Roxas gasped, snapped his gaze down, looked sideways with confusion, saw Axel pointing excitedly. "You missed it," the redhead said, gripping the chain again as they fell back. "Get a big swing, and at the top, look out, straight ahead!"

Roxas furrowed his brow, took a deep breath, inserted every bit of effort into the next one, rose higher than ever before, and looked. From up here, for the brief seconds in which he hung, he saw over the collection of gnarled, twisted trees a large ruin, what was once a long building, now utterly destroyed. Axel was beside him a bare second later, eyes focused at the same point, eyebrows drawn together, red hair fluttering. "You see it?" he murmured, as Roxas began to fall.

They swung back fast, gravity tugging them down. On the next upward sweep, Axel jumped, the seat clattering loudly as it leapt against the chains in his absence. He landed softly in the sand, arms outstretched, coat settling a moment later to sway around his ankles. Startled, Roxas copied, letting go too late and staggering as he hit, legs buckling, a jarring pain shooting up into his knees. He fell to the sand, capturing handfuls, feeling it slide and wedge beneath his nails. Hands touched him, Axel concerned. "Roxie?"

Roxas grasped his wrist, pulled himself up by it. For a moment, panting, they looked at each other. "It's where they died," the redhead explained after several beats. Roxas paused, didn't breathe for a second, looked over at the trees, knowing now that beyond lay – a wreckage. "You want to go see?"

Roxas blinked hard, scrubbed at the dust in his eyes, bewildered and nauseous. "See?"

Axel hooked an arm around him. "Come on, I'll show you."

They returned to the footpath, passed the copse of trees. Roxas struggled to shake off the feeling that clung to him, remaining from the playground, like oil adhering to his skin.

As they turned the corner some minutes later, the hulking construction came into view. A shattered building, walls broken, decimated, the ceiling crushing the debris. It sank in on itself quietly, huddled and dark.

Axel paused, gazing across the street. Here, there were no more streetlights – this was Hollow Bastion from the war. No one needed to see it.

Shivering, Roxas wrapped his arms around his shoulders, index fingers moving against the sides of his neck in a faintly nervous motion. "So, what am I looking at exactly?" he asked hoarsely, not glancing at the redhead, eyes fixed on the edifice.

"I told you," said Axel calmly. His fingers brushed the boy's arm from over his shoulder. "This is where they died, Rox. This is their grave."

He held the blond's gaze steadily, watching as bewilderment turned to comprehension, to shock, before settling again back in the realm of confusion. Roxas' eyes swung over, blinking quickly. "You brought me… to their graves?"

"Grave," the redhead corrected quietly. "Just the one." He stared across the street. "They were all meeting to figure out what to do about the war, Hollow Bastion's future. So much of the town attended…" His expression, his tone, fell abruptly flat. "It was Zanarkand that did it. They rigged an explosion." He shrugged. "Almost everybody died, blown apart or crushed by the rubble."

Roxas was silent. No wonder there were ghosts about. The whole town was running on them… even the rebuilt parts were located over sites like this… Roxas just knew it.

"So… they're in there now?" he asked softly. Axel exhaled slowly.

"No, Roxas. They're gone." He lowered his eyes to the blond. "Only their bones remain."

Roxas shifted his weight from one foot to the other, grimacing. "So why'd you even bring me, if they're not here?"

Axel gusted a sigh, unthreading his arm from the blond, hands finding his pockets. "Because," he said after a long pause, "aside from you… my other obsession sits before us." He smiled crookedly. "It's amazing how much empty bones can… call to you."

Roxas swallowed, asked neutrally, "Do you… make a habit of obsessing over things that are… always out of your grasp?"

Axel rose up onto his toes with a frown, bobbed back down. "Used to." He shook his head sharply. "But I don't need to anymore. I've – got you, Roxas. You're real now, even though sometimes it felt like you were as good as dead to me. Then… you started wanting out. I spent – the last year waiting for you. Watching you whenever I could. My obsession with you grew, and this one was neglected… until it got to the point where this is the first time in four months that I've been here."

He twisted his head slowly, eyes moving across their surroundings, breathing deep with a scowl. "The air feels different tonight. Clearer." His gaze settled for an unnerving moment on the blond. "I wonder if it's you." In this light, Roxas thought the tattoos on his face looked like scars. Like someone had gouged the skin from his cheeks. "I brought us both here," Axel said, mild once more, eyes shifting back to the building, "so we could maybe say good-bye together." In response to Roxas' blank look, he added softly, "That's your mom in there, Roxie. And your dad. When you first met me, your parents were alive. Now they're dead. A week ago, you told them you hoped they slept well before climbing into your Twilight Town bed. Fact is… they were never awake." He looked over, Roxas following his gaze with consternation, the words only now beginning to take root. "They were here all along."

Roxas' feet were moving before he was even aware of it, carrying him slowly across the cracked street. His shoes crunched over the gravel, coming to a stop at the edge of the devastation. Axel stayed where he was, watching on. Roxas' gaze was vacant, skating over the debris, mind struggling to convert Axel's words into reality.

His mom was in there.

He hadn't left her that night in Twilight Town – he had returned to where she waited under the rubble.

And now? Did she hear his steps? Did her bones feel his presence, and long to stir? Or, like Axel said, was she not here at all?

She'd never make him waffles, or write grocery lists at the kitchen table. She'd never leave a voice message on his phone, or send him upstairs to do homework while she did his chores for him. She wouldn't cook, and her small hands would never touch him again.

They never even… had.

And… Axel wanted him to say good-bye?

"Mom." His voice was a hushed rasp. He crouched, tears spilling suddenly, heedlessly down his cheeks, and pressed his hands against the nearest slab of stone, cold and gritty. Somewhere, she was lying, and Roxas felt the dark pull of Axel's obsession infecting his heart. "Can you hear me?" Absurd. Ridiculous. Futile, illogical, and completely necessary. "If you're still here…" What could he say? The woman – didn't even know him. Shaking badly, he whispered, "If you can hear me – " What did you say to a woman dead and buried, whose spirit might or might not remain?

Show me a sign? Find a way to tell me you love me? I'm sorry I didn't know the woman I thought you were? Sorry for forgetting you, and loving your digitalised shadow instead?

In the end, all the words he could find amounted to: "Don't – worry about me. I'll be fine. Just…" He swallowed, stood, gazed out over the ruins. "Just sleep."

He waited, for the reply that never came, and abandoned the obsession before it could consume him.

Axel was… looking surprisingly calm, all things considered. Because – he was saying good-bye, too, wasn't he? That's what he'd said. They were both meant to be doing it. But when Roxas joined him, he merely smiled tautly and asked, "Ready to go, Roxie?"

Roxas glanced over his shoulder, taking hold of Axel's arm and drawing close, losing himself again in the redhead's heat.

_See, mom? I've got someone that loves me. He'll make sure I'm happy._

As they left, he could imagine her clearly, pearly, translucent, sitting atop the destruction, chin in her hands, watching him walk away. And as far as he could tell, she was smiling.

-------

They spent a while just wandering. No need to speak, each absorbed inside whatever closure he felt he had gained. Roxas was grateful to Axel. He'd been right – this was… definitely something he wanted. Axel had – very much made up every mistake with this gesture.

His blue eyes took note of little as they meandered, weaving slowly in and out between old and new Hollow Bastion, gradually drawing closer again to the Bailey. With Axel's purpose completed, there was really nothing else that either of them felt like doing this night. Roxas, at least, wanted to find somewhere quiet to let it all just – sink in.

They entered the market district, virtually deserted in comparison to the other day, crickets loudly chirping away. The stars overhead were bright.

A loud, brash voice halted them as they headed for the gate at last. Both drew to a stop, Roxas curious, Axel letting out a hissed, weary curse. Three men approached, wearing the uniform of soldiers, swaggering. Roxas frowned, stiffened, didn't know whether to hold Axel tighter or let him go to demonstrate his independence in front of these three. They sent out vibes that set his teeth on edge. Axel was looking less than pleased.

"Well, well," the tallest of them sneered. "Look what we have here."

Roxas could have sworn the asshole had taken lessons from Seifer, just in those few words. Axel tugged free gently of Roxas, cocked his head to the side, hands obviously itching for his chakrams. "Piss off, Bickson," he said coolly. "We're not doing anything wrong."

"Oh, you don't say?" the asshole said. "I don't know, that sounded pretty defensive to me. Who says I thought you were doing anything wrong?"

Axel snorted. "You're always on our fucking backs about something." He leaned forward, smirking. "You know, if you're really that keen on riding me, you should just come out and say it." Roxas started choking incredulously. Axel shot him an amused look, his earlier hushed state abolished. Meanwhile, the guard was rapidly reddening.

"Really, now," he growled, "if I'd wanted _that _from you, I'd have taken it that last time at the castle. Remember? When I had you on the ground, bleeding in front of me?"

"On one of your non-existent raids, yes, I remember," the redhead coolly replied. "And what happened next? Oh, that's right, the silver-haired kid with the funky sword just about gutted you over the darkroom floor. How's that coming along? Can you shit by yourself yet?"

If he was red before, the guy was now officially purple, teeth visibly grinding. He sucked at this swapping-of-insults game. "Just wait until next time, you piece of shit, I'll…" He trailed off suddenly, eyes flicking to Roxas. He smiled, a cold expression that made both males tense. Axel started glaring. "This your new fuck-toy, Axel? How's _that _coming along? He's looking pretty virginal. Think he'll measure up to all the others?"

_All the others?_

Axel snapped, "He's not a fuck-toy, and you need to back the fuck off. We were just leaving anyway."

"Oh-_ho." _An ugly leer came over the guy's face. "Touchy about that, are we? Don't want the little slut to know the truth?"

"Don't you call him that," Axel thundered. Roxas watched in confusion, with a small amount of fear. In the space of a few seconds, Axel had completely lost control of the entire situation. And what the fuck? Fuck-toys, truth?

"Sorry, you're quite right." The man affected chagrin. "After all, it's _you _who's the slut around here." He snorted, said to the blond, "Your boyfriend here is a grade-A whore, kid, he's slept with half the fucking populace of Hollow Bastion."

One of his buddies laughed. "And guess what I heard? Every time he comes, he screams out some other guy's name."

Oh, man. Roxas didn't like where this was going. He flushed instantly crimson, the heat overlaying the sting of the knowledge they were imparting.

Axel cracked. _"Shut the fuck up!" _he roared, eyes blazing, voice tearing from his throat. He lunged forward, yanking a mini-fucking-_blowtorch _from his coat pocket, lighting it up in a flare and aiming for the asshole's face.

"No!" Roxas grabbed him, hooked his fingers into the black hood and managed to yank him back, causing the redhead to nearly burn himself on the solid-looking flame.

"Roxas, get the _fuck _off me," he snarled.

The three men had leapt back, but now the one with the dark skin was laughing, pointing. "Oh, man, that's the guy! That's the name! Roxas! I fucking heard from this other guy I know, he always yells out 'Roxassssss'."

They burst into laughter, all three of them, and Axel's humiliation was complete. The hiss of the flame filled the air, Roxas' blush spreading throughout his entire body. Axel slumped, yanking free of him, clicking the flame off and waving it through the air to cool down.

"You son-of-a-fucking-bitch." Roxas' voice trembled with fury, shoulders hunched, fingers curled into fists. "You fucking _assholes!" _

He attacked the trio with only his hands, teeth bared, rage blinding him to his inabilities. It was just like the clock tower again, only this time, Roxas was without his keyblades. He got in a punch, a vicious bite that nearly ripped his teeth from his head when the guy jerked away with a yell, a hefty kick, and then he was down, smothered under their combined weight, each working to repay the blows and then some.

"_Roxas!" _The blowtorch relit with a sharp noise, Axel racing forward.

Then suddenly, it all stopped.

All the shouting, the grunting, the flesh-on-flesh of fists into his stomach and already-abused face, everything was gone.

The pressure disappeared from Roxas' body, the scuffle of feet filling the air, and strong hands pulled the blond to his feet. He was gasping, bleeding slightly from one eyebrow where the skin had split. His eyes swam for a moment, he blinked them clear. Axel clicked off his blowtorch a second time, head hanging, a bitter expression on his face. Hands were still holding Roxas. He swung his head dazedly, found himself looking at a pair of amber eyes beneath dark brows, long brown hair spilling around a narrow face.

"Who're you?" the blond panted.

"Are you alright?" the man asked in a deep, hoarse voice. His grip tightened momentarily on the blond, one hand feeling – wrong against him. When he looked down, he saw metal shining where there should have been flesh. His eyes widened.

"Yeah," he breathed slowly. "I'm… okay."

He was released, swayed and staggered slightly. Axel automatically caught him, then just as quickly let him go, as if burnt by the contact.

The man turned to Axel, and Roxas realised that there was only the three of them here. What had happened to the soldiers?

"I don't want this to happen again, Axel," the man said softly. "I'll have to let Leon know what went on here."

"Why?" Axel demanded. He was almost in tears, shocking Roxas to his core. He'd never even known that Axel could be capable of crying. Not like this. "Nobody got fucking hurt!"

"What about your friend?"

Axel's eyes lit briefly on the blond, torn, filled with rage, longing, regret. "He's not my friend," he spat. "He's a nobody. See? What'd I tell you? Nobody got _hurt."_

Without waiting to argue further, the redhead spun and stalked away. Roxas blinked rapidly, glanced over at the man, who gazed steadily back.

"Thanks for your help," the teen said shakily.

"My name is Vincent. I'm part of the Restoration Committee," he replied. "You're new?"

"My name is Roxas."

An eyebrow rose. "Ah," the man said, as if everything suddenly made sense. "Then I suggest you go after him, before he does something stupid like throw himself off a cliff."

Roxas' eyes bulged. _"What?" _He hissed, _"Fuck." _Then he started running.


	19. Chapter 19

**A/N: **The first half of this came slowly, the second half leapt from my fingers, which is why it's posting slightly earlier tonight. Again, the mixture of writing methods, and I don't think I'll ever go back, because this is working so well for me. I'm very happy with how it's going. SIXTEEN DOES NOT EXIST. Now, I've just gotta find some ruby shoes to click together, and it might become reality.

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CHAPTER NINETEEN

Roxas' feet crunched loudly over loose stones. Axel sat with his back to the blond, gazing out over the deep ravine that circled the base of the castle. The Crystal Fissure was nearby, Roxas had followed him here, had listened to the echo of his rapid footsteps.

Despite the sheer, massive drop, Axel wasn't poised and ready to jump, like Roxas half-feared. He was just sitting there, cross-legged, the suddenly barren landscape awash in silver, blue and black. His hair still managed to be bright in the darkness.

"…So, I guess you didn't spend _all _your time watching me," said Roxas quietly When Axel didn't respond, he added dryly, "But then, why would you want to watch a _nobody?"_

Axel's head jerked to the side, mouth opening as if to speak… He subsided, opting for continued silence. Roxas sighed, rubbed his chin, cleared it of the pooling sweat. "Axel, I chased you all the way here. Do you have any idea why?"

A long pause. This time, Roxas just waited. Axel's curiosity would get the better of him. "…You hate me, and want to tell me to my face."

"Oh, bravo, that's exactly it," Roxas replied with heavy sarcasm, arms folding over his chest. "Some guy with a metal arm tells me to go after you in case you jump off a cliff, and the whole reason I listened was to let you know how much I _hate _you before you die. Just to lend you that extra bit of motivation. Wouldn't want you to back out, now."

Axel's lips hardly moved, his voice almost inaudible. "I can, you know. If that's what you'd like. I can just… go away."

Angrily, Roxas said, "No, wait, _I _know – let's see if we can come up with something _more _dramatic that our current situation. And we'll write ourselves fucking scripts and everything, just to get the right amount of bullshit, idiotic statements in. Like that one you just made! Fucking gold! Can I _borrow it?"_

A dry, harsh laugh. "You think this is some kind of joke, huh?"

"Yeah, it's why I'm laughing so fucking hard," the blond snarled. Axel subsided into a bitter half-smile, turned away, facing the sprawl of the ravine.

"I know what you're thinking about me, Roxas. I know exactly how this is going to play out."

"I think I'm falling in love with you."

Axel froze, shoulders hunching. "What?"

Roxas swallowed, shut his eyes, wished he could hit himself. _Fuck. _"You heard me."

Weakly, the redhead asked, "Was that – just said for effect? I say 'I know how the conversation's going to go', and you shout, 'Surprise, fucker!'?"

"I didn't shout 'surprise fucker'. I told you… I think… I more than like you." Roxas' voice jumped around, weight shifting from leg to leg. "I don't know what you think of me, exactly, but… I'm not stupid, Axel. And I'm not so totally unreasonable."

The redhead drew a deep, shuddering breath. "Why aren't you screaming at me?" he muttered. "You're supposed to be screaming. You're supposed to be upset."

"Oh, I'm upset," the blond snapped. "I'm completely fucking furious, Axel – but it's not at you."

"It wasn't my evil twin who fucked half the town, Roxas," Axel said loudly, a halting bite to each word. "It was _me. _Just like they said."

"All those bastards did," the blond yelled, pointing violently back towards the city, voice echoing, "was humiliate you. They knew they couldn't win on intelligence, so they dragged you down until you panicked!"

"And now you know _why," _Axel cried, voice cracking. His knees drew up, hands finding his hair, pulling hard. "I'm such a fucking screw-up."

"How are you a screw-up?" Roxas demanded. When Axel didn't reply for too long a moment, the blond marched up to him, sat down sharply in the dirt, a mere foot from the edge, glaring across at him. "Tell me what you did that was _so _wrong."

"Uh…" Axel laughed slightly, an almost hysterical sound. "Were you not paying attention, Roxas? Did you miss something back there?"

"What am I, retarded?" the blond shot back, hands flattening against his denim-clad thighs. "Yes, I heard what they said. I don't see how that gives you the right to call me a _nobody, _as if you don't care about me at all, and run off like a cheerleader who just got dumped for her best friend by the school _jock!_ I mean, do I have to get Cloud to start lending you his high heels, or what?"

Axel's head came up, bewilderment etched over every inch of his expression. "Cloud – wears…?"

"Okay, no, _don't _fuck with me," Roxas fumed. Axel blinked, drew back, eyebrows knitted together.

"I'm not, I just – _you're _the one that…"

"How about," the blond cut in, "you start off by explaining everything that happened back there?"

Axel's teeth clicked together. Desolately, he turned away, a desperation touching his features as he started blankly across the landscape. "It – I was lonely, Roxas. I was _alone. _Is it… really so bad to want – but…" He lowered his gaze to his hands, eyes emptying. "All I ever wanted was…" He blushed, closed his eyes firmly. "You," he said harshly. "You're the one I wanted. I told you I was obsessed, and I was, Roxas. Yes, I fucked a lot of different people. But – but – !" He twisted, eyes flashing open again, blazing. "Do you want to know _why _I did it?"

"I wouldn't mind having it confirmed," Roxas replied quietly. Anger crashed over the redhead's face, born of defensiveness.

"I didn't want anyone but you. If I stayed with someone, I might've grown attached, and I didn't want that, Roxas. I didn't want feelings for any of them!"

"So you risked losing someone great just to chase after a guy you didn't even know would return your _feelings?" _Roxas demanded. "Okay, _now _I'm mad. What, are you dense? Didn't you get how bad that was for you? Emotionally, physically – _mentally, _Axel. That's going beyond fixation, it's just – " He smacked him suddenly upside the head, gaining a startled yelp. "I mean, could you _be _any more self-destructive?"

"It was for you!" Axel exclaimed, gripping his head with an injured look and leaning away. "I did it because I love you!"

Roxas glared. "Hey, I know, let's go skip arm-in-arm into the realm of _scary _obsession, Axel! Because God knows we're heading there fast!" He fixed him with a hard look. "Don't bring me into this. It's fine to want to be loved, but don't use me as an excuse to – "

"It's not an excuse," Axel snapped. "It's just the way things were, Roxas! I was so fucking caught up in you that I – I just – "

"You had sex with random people and pretended it was _me?" _he finished, torn between fear and disgust.

"I was going to do it anyway," the redhead said heatedly. "And I preferred to think of you, yes!"

A brief, angry silence fell between them. Axel exhaled sharply, head cutting to one side, gaze averted. "Let me clear something up for you. I'm not the whore of Hollow Bastion, okay?" He raised his glinting eyes, determined. "You really think Demyx would have let me go become some disease-addled universal fuck-toy? I just – " He straightened, running a frustrated hand through his hair. "I was a normal guy in need of sex, and out of – a fear of getting attached, I – I switched partners pretty regularly. I'm not an addict, Roxas, I don't want to pin anything that breathes, I just – I kept it casual. And – I wished it was you." He sighed, a large part of the tension leaking from his posture. "That was bad enough. Cheating on you like that…"

"Cheating? Cheating?" Roxas groaned, head dropping to his hands, fingertips digging into his scalp. "It's not _cheating _if we weren't _together, _Axel. See, this is what's _frustrating _me. You're expecting me to leap down your throat and start wailing that you're some kind of unfaithful slut, but _I didn't know you then. _I didn't know you existed, and I don't even know how you could maintain that level of feeling for someone who didn't remember you." He stuck his elbows on his knees, fingers shifting into his blond spikes, propping up his head. "I guess that's where the obsession comes in, right?" Blue eyes slid shut. "You know what really gets me?" he asked tiredly. "The more things come to light about you, the more I realise how goddamn patient you've been with me. Patient, understanding, respectful – everything. I don't even know how, or why you'd bother. I mean… you waited all this time. All your life, practically. And you're just… letting me flail around over here while I figure out my feelings, and deal with a new life, and swing between wanting to hug you and wanting to punch you… The whole time, you're just waiting for me to get a grip. How are you even _doing _this?"

Axel hesitated, shrugged one shoulder awkwardly. "I don't know. I just… I don't want to lose you. I'm not so blinded by it all to be stupid and try and force you into anything. I'm just… standing on the sidelines and hoping, Rox."

Roxas sighed. "I know." He gripped his face, aggravated. "I _know." _He sucked in a breath between his fingers, lifted his face slightly to gaze over at the moon-drenched ravine. "And I'm getting there," he said quietly. "I really am. It's all paying off, Axel."

The redhead picked at the sole of his shoe, nodding half-heartedly. "Sure you are, Roxas." He smiled crookedly, chanced a glance sideways. "But do you really want to be with someone whose… whose mouth is the anatomical equivalent of a chemical toilet?"

The blond glared. "Whose side are you even on? Work with me here, bean-pole, we're meant to be reconciling."

He snuffed a laugh, tugging a piece of black rubber into his hand. "It's been a few days since I heard that one…" He trailed off into moody silence. "Hey, Rox? Are you ever – going to try and pull them out of the network?"

Roxas tilted his head, sighed, started picking at Axel's other shoe. "I'd like to. It'd be nice to have friends of my own again." He poked the redhead in the side. "Quit changing the subject."

Axel shrugged. "Wasn't. Just wondered all of a sudden."

"Well, don't worry about them. Worry about this thing we've got."

Axel shook his head. "I didn't even think the thing would still exist after what happened back there."

"Yeah, well, it does," Roxas growled. "So you can stop being stupid and mean, and go back to being _you."_

A half-smile. "How do you know that being stupid and mean _isn't _me?"

"Because I know you better than that by now," the blond replied quietly.

They were quiet for a while, tearing the loose threads from Axel's soles, the only noise out in the barrenness their nails against the rubber. Roxas began prying out little stones, cleaning the dusty patterns. Axel sighed.

"I _told_ you you were nice," he murmured. "I can't think of anyone else who would be this reasonable."

"Yeah, well, I can't think of anyone who'd spend thirteen years obsessing over me," Roxas muttered. "It all works out in the end. And those guys were being assholes, anyway. They were just trying to upset us." He frowned, flicked his gaze up to the fair face. "So, while we're here and I'm feeling so very generous, is there anything else I should know about? I understand why you didn't tell me about this – it's not the kind of thing you say to a new boyfriend, or whatever the hell I am – but since it's all coming out in the open anyway…"

Axel smiled, spikes swaying from side to side in a negative. "Naw. I'm pretty sure that's the whole can of worms right there. Anything else, I don't know I'm doing wrong." He looked over at the blond, almost nervous. "So, while we're on the subject of whatever the hell you are – um… what the hell are you?"

Roxas eyed him uncertainly. "What do you want me to be?"

Axel snorted quietly. "My wife?"

The blond was amused. "I don't see me in white. Sorry."

He grinned at the ground. "Well, a lot of weddings these days are pretty contemporary… We could be creative, get you a dress in blue, maybe, to suit your eyes. And _you _can borrow Cloud's high heels. By the way, I'm dying inside from that mental image."

Roxas shook his head. "Maybe… Okay, let's stop being little kids about this. Grown men, right?"

Axel glanced up, arched an eyebrow. Roxas took the opportunity to lean forward and kiss him. It was clumsy from how fast he went in, and he started to overbalance. Axel grabbed his wrists, kept him steady, and twisted slightly. Roxas opened his mouth, let his tongue out, coaxed Axel's lips apart, hands slipping free and sliding up his shoulders, around his neck, pulling closer. Axel inhaled suddenly through his nose, broke them apart, nose pressed to Roxas', and said hoarsely, "You sure you want this? Me?"

Roxas found a way to punch his chest without drawing away, muttered, "Stop being a drama queen." Axel sighed, kissed his mouth, his cheek, his jaw. He moved down to Roxas' throat, gently sucked the flesh there, pulling breaths from the blond's chest. Roxas tipped his chin down, rested it against Axel's cheekbone as the redhead shifted around to various points of his neck. He swallowed hard, Axel's fingers like spiders, crawling under his shirt to caress his hips.

Some rocks clattered nearby, drawing their attention, disturbing them briefly from their intimacy. Axel wrapped his arms around the smaller male's body, drew him close, resting his chin on his shoulder, eyelids dropping sleepily. Roxas' hands swept up and down his back in slow, soothing motions, his head turned so he could breathe against the redhead's throat. Axel turned his mouth to the blond's ear, whispered, "I think there's someone watching us." Roxas stiffened. "Probably Vincent."

He relaxed. "Probably checking to make sure you didn't kill yourself."

A soft chuckle. "Two options, and I'm pretty sure I know the answer: one, we make like horn-dogs and give him a show he'll never forget, or two, we head back to the castle, pretend that everything's fine, and go get smashed off our faces and play poker."

Roxas nuzzled against him. "Everything _is _fine." He waited a beat, realised Axel was expecting an answer, rolled his eyes. "The second one, Axel."

"Ah, you're no fun." He drew back reluctantly, a shivery smile in place as he studied the blond. Roxas stood first, kept his hands on Axel's and tugged him up. The tall man stretched out the kinks in his muscles, and at last, after such a crazy, overflowing evening, they headed back to the castle.

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They returned to the castle, the lights serving as a beacon as it huddled high above the city. For the first time, Roxas was relieved to be coming here – it was beginning to feel like home. But then, maybe that was just the overall contentedness that had settled through him. Emotional exhaustion made anywhere you could sit and relax the next best thing to home.

Axel was nearly hanging from him as they ascended the path up to the side entrance, the events of the last couple of days mingling with the lack of sleep, draining him right in front of the blond's eyes. Roxas peered under at his bowed face concernedly. "Are you okay?" he asked softly. "You could just go to bed… Where are you sleeping these days?"

Axel grunted, roused himself, closed his eyes and briefly shook his head to dislodge the clouds thickening within his skull. "I've taken over Dem's room. He's staying with Zexion. They're always sharing one or the other of their rooms anyway." He smiled. "I'm okay, though. I can't let you go to your first poker night without an escort."

"So I won't go," the blond insisted. "It's really not a big deal."

Axel arched a brow. "Are you okay?"

Roxas frowned at the abrupt digression. "What? Yes. Why?"

They had entered the light, revealing the full extent on Roxas' bruises, young and old. Axel gestured vaguely to the blond's face. "You keep getting beat up. Do you have funky pheromones, or what?"

Roxas blinked, tenderly touched his swelled skin. "I honestly have no idea. Ouch." He winced, shook his head. Axel smiled proudly.

"Well, at least we know you don't mind getting hurt in a fight. Maybe I'll tell Zexion and Dem about it. We can put it towards your training."

Roxas moaned. "Don't talk about training. Not until I've had a half-decent sleep at least. Please."

Axel chuckled, tightening his grip on the blond. "I've got an even better solution." He led Roxas through the castle, towards the dining hall and then beyond it. As they came to a halt outside on door in particular, Roxas could hear noises from within, voices rumbling. Axel shot him a wry grin. "Prepare yourself, Roxie. It's… not necessarily going to be pretty." He placed a hand on the latch, opened the door and ushered the teen inside.

The first thing that occurred to Roxas was that the entire room was different to anything he'd seen so far in the castle. As a general rule, no matter how many people were living in it, the place had a hollow feel to it, sort of lifeless. It was just a structure to be used.

This room, on the other hand, looked like something directly out of a gentlemen's club. It even had a half-naked woman sitting at the elaborate card table. Larxene glanced up, noticing their entrance through the haze of cigar smoke. Some old jazz was playing quietly in the background, jaunty and smooth. She adjusted a bra strap, and warned, "Newbie alert."

The occupants of the table turned, Leon using the time to check out shirtless Cloud's rippling muscles as he twisted in his seat to gaze over at them curiously. A small smirk couldn't be kept from the brunet's face. Demyx let out a squeal of glee, bouncing up from beside Zexion and running around the table to greet them, still clutching a fan of cards. Luxord, a cigar clamped between his teeth, smirked, eyeing Roxas off like fresh meat.

"Axel, I didn't think you'd end up bringing him," the white-blond man said, letting out a breath of smoke with each word. Sora blushed, sinking down into his seat, also shirtless, a hint of silk below the table telling Roxas that neither did the boy have his pants on. Beside him, fully clothed, sat Riku, a faint, perpetual smile in place.

Demyx whirled, also in only boxers, pausing in his crushing of the pair to frown. "Of course Axel brought him! He _can't _miss poker night!" He turned back, grinning. "So cool that you're here!"

"What happened to your face – again?" Riku asked sceptically, silver brow rising as he slipped his cards together, pressing them idly to his cheek, hiding them from the desperately peering Sora.

"Some jerks in town got on our cases," Axel muttered, hunching his shoulders, sinking down slightly. Demyx scowled.

"What jerks? Someone beat Roxas up _again?" _He looked quizzically at the blond, stepped back, tapping his chin for a moment as his ocean-coloured eyes swept up and down. "I don't see it," he reported at last. "I'm not picking up on the hurt-Roxie vibes." A second later, he amended, "Axel's Roxie."

The pair exchanged glances, grinning slightly. Roxas shook his head. "Forget it." His eyes narrowed, hands finding his hips, unable to keep the twisted smile from his lips. "So, um, no one told me this was _strip _poker."

"Told you Luxord was gonna steal your clothes!" Demyx sang, skipping away. He leapt over the back of the lavender sofa behind the card table, evidently landing on a person judging from the keening cry that ensued. "Wakey, wakey, Kairi!"

Axel tipped his head back, slapping a hand over his face. "Please, tell me she's out cold for the night," he groaned. "I can't handle seeing my sister in her underwear."

"She's done," Leon drawled, eyes still glued to Cloud. The blond turned when he spoke, glared promptly, pulling his chair in until he was pressed against the table, arms folding. The brunet man shifted his attention to Roxas, and for the first time noticed the bruises. He scowled. "Which jerks?" he echoed. "Who did this, and why?"

"Don't worry," Axel muttered sullenly. "Vincent'll give you a full report in the morning."

Yuffie, who had been lying with her still-clothed upper body sprawled across the table, drooling gently, sat suddenly, fingers still curled around a shot glass, hair a mess as she mumbled, "Vincent?"

"He's not here, Yuffie," Cloud sighed. "He'll come in the morning, Axel said."

She wiped her mouth off, pushed her hands through her hair to remove it from her eyes, and blinked hard several times. "Oh. Okay." She spotted Roxas and grinned. "Hey, there, good lookin'. You come to join the party?"

Roxas stared. "Weren't you just… unconscious?"

Larxene snorted. "Yuffie passes out every five shots."

"Hey!" The ninja slapped the table. "I wake up again, don't I?"

"So," Luxord cut in, still grinning, "are you two going to join the fray, or simply stand on the sidelines and appreciate the gradual strip show?"

"I know I'm in," Axel said emphatically, removing his arm from Roxas to clap his hands and move towards the table. "Gimme a goddamn, fucking drink."

Luxord waved a hand lazily, calling, "Oh, barmaid!"

At the side of the room, where Roxas hadn't seen her, Tifa leapt to her feet from a stool beside the small, brilliantly-stocked bar and called, "What'll it be, Axel?"

"Everything. All at once. In a mug. With a curly straw. And make one for Roxie, too."

Roxas' eyes widened. He trailed after Axel, took the empty seat beside him, entering the dim, warm light, breathing the undulating smoke, on the other side of Larxene. "Uh, I'm thinking I should start off a little lighter…"

"Then you'll never enjoy getting naked," the blonde woman stated flatly, sorting through her cards, straightening them, perfecting the fan. She flashed him a quick, squinty smile. "And I can tell you're the sort who'll be stripping nice and fast."

Roxas raised an eyebrow. Tifa came over a moment later, sporting two drinks, one a mug with a curly straw, the other a tall glass, contents clear, bubbling, with a slice of lime. She gave the harmless-looking one to Roxas with a wink. "Enjoy, okay? I figured I'd use my own discretion with your one."

He frowned slightly as she started to move away. "Not playing?" he asked curiously.

She laughed, shook her head. "I prefer my clothes to stay on. _I," _she added wickedly, "come for the show."

Roxas mimicked Sora, blushing and sinking down. The brunet boy caught his gaze and nodded miserably. "It's true, she does. She starts whistling."

Roxas closed his eyes, a half grin in place as he breathed, "Fuck."

"Is everybody ready to continue?" Luxord asked. Noises of assent were made, Yuffie suddenly scowling.

"Hey, where's my cards?"

"You've been out of the game for three rounds, dear heart," the man drawled. "You can join with Roxas and Axel in the next."

She pouted, crossing her arms and legs, and threw back the shot she'd fallen unconscious before being able to down. Roxas wrapped his hands around the fizzing beverage Tifa had got him, playing idly with the lime as silence fell across the table. Sora, obviously out already, had his head tipped back and was staring at the ceiling, breathing slowly. In front of him, a set of nine empty shot glasses were set out, all in a pretty row. Riku had his cards out again, holding them in one hand while the other drew lazy circles on the half-naked teen's stomach.

The blond sipped his drink, found the alcoholic taste not overpowering, decided he quite liked it, considering that the few drinks he and Hayner had managed to smuggle in their younger years had been almost uniformly revolting. Could have been the fact that the beer was simulated. Either that, or cheap. And the vodka, that time on the beach – ugh. Paint-stripper.

Axel shot him a happy look, sipping at his straw, the fluid visible through the thin plastic. Roxas' brows came together. "Is that really – everything?"

He shrugged. "Clothe enough," he lisped around the tube, the line of liquid momentarily dropping back. He instantly replaced his lips and kept sucking, the drink shooting back through and into his mouth. Obviously, Roxas realised with a wry smile, the redhead had recovered successfully from their trauma. And to think, an hour ago it had seemed like the man was ready to throw himself off a cliff if Roxas had wished it.

He shivered a little, coming over cold all of a sudden, glad he had made the choice he had. He was aware of the way it all could have turned out… All he'd had to do was get angry, start leaping to conclusions again… Either he'd grown out of that habit, and fast, or, to his credit, the larger issues instantly earned more thought. One way or another, this was definitely the most positive outcome either of them could have hoped for, and he was endlessly grateful that he hadn't done or said anything stupid.

The round of cards finished, Zexion being the loser, while Luxord, in a three-piece suit and burgundy tie, swept the winnings into his already enormous pile. It seemed they were playing with… chips. Literally. Potato chips. Larxene stole one of the man's, crunching it down, earning a powerful glare. "Bitch." She shrugged, pushed her chest out at him tauntingly, low-cut bra revealing more than it concealed. Roxas wondered if she wore that style all the time, or if she did it deliberately for poker nights in order to distract the gambler in just this situation. As it was, Luxord seemed to forget his qualms with her, and collected everyone's cards. Zexion peeled off his shirt and threw it to the ground, Demyx instantly falling over him, hands happily scratching the skin beneath the slate-haired man's ribs. Zexion shivered slightly, muttered something sharply, and sheepishly, the blond pulled away. Zexion then leaned his head against Demyx's shoulder, and for a moment, they just looked utterly content.

Roxas felt a pang, and understood at last why Axel aspired to be like them. He wondered what the last year had been like for the redhead, seeing those two together, knowing that Roxas' time was coming, envying their easy, loving relationship and waiting for the chance to build his own – _hopefully. _The blond shook his head. It boggled the mind.

During the break, as Luxord expertly shuffled, the table's occupants stood and stretched, Tifa quietly refreshing their drinks. Riku and Sora went to bend over the back of the sofa, the brunet poking the slumbering girl on the cushions. After a minute, Riku left him to murmur to the momentarily roused, sleepy girl, going to check on the music, before returning to the table and coming to stand between Roxas and Axel. He grabbed one of the red spikes and idly tugged, Axel accepting the motion with a grunt and continuing with his drink. The teal-eyed teen glanced down at Roxas, smiled slightly.

"So, how'd that happen, anyway?"

Roxas shrugged, chose not to answer. Axel had no such compunctions. "He was defending my honour," he said proudly, honestly. "Bickson told him he was on the arm of the town whore, and Roxie tried to tear his shoulder off with his teeth."

Riku's eyebrows rose, the smile growing. "Roxas, all right. Fight, fight, _fight."_

The blond scowled. "It's not like I didn't get it back three times as worse."

Riku frowned. "Oh, I see. He had his dogs with him, then. Well, wasn't that a brave little battle, then. Assholes."

Roxas twisted to look at him. "Did you really gut that guy? Or was it Zexion?"

"Zexion can't gut, he fights with a book," Demyx insisted. Zexion growled and pinched him. "Ow!"

Riku smirked, drew a hand through his hair, leaning on the blond's chair. "Oh, that was me. Fun times. The hospital stuck him on a colostomy bag for a few months. I slit his intestine, it was great."

Axel shot him a narrow look. "So, you're not being a bitch to Roxie anymore?"

Riku sighed, rolled his eyes. "No, Axel, I thought you _heard _that conversation this morning, but evidently you never got past the 'Axel smash' instinct in order to actually listen. Roxas and I made a deal, and I'm sticking by it."

Roxas smiled a little, pleased. He had figured it was all just lip-service on the silver-haired boy's part. This would definitely make life easier.

Sora came over, wrapping his arms around Riku from behind, standing on his toes in order to place his chin on the teen's shoulder. He rolled his eyes, gesturing a hand up and down the boy's body. "Roxas, would you look at this? Isn't it disgusting? He's managed to keep _all _his clothes."

"I lost one game towards the beginning," Riku reminded him mildly. Sora glared.

"You pulled out your _hair tie, _Riku. That barely counts."

"Ah, but barely is just enough," the teen replied smugly.

"How long have you guys been playing?" Roxas asked, grinning. Riku shrugged, Sora's head moving with the motion.

"About three hours."

The blond raised an eyebrow. "Aren't you getting bored by now?"

There was a sharp cough from the other side of the table, Luxord glaring over at them. "I'll forgive you that this once," the man warned, "simply because you're a beginner. But I _dare _you to repeat that once you've actually had a taste of the game, Roxas. Poker doesn't _get _boring, not while there are still chips on the table."

"I see Leon isn't letting you use money again," Axel observed, stealing a handful from the brunet's pile as he and Cloud stood across the room, hands on hips, engaged in some sort of staring competition. He started to eat them, one by one. Luxord pouted.

"No. As long as he keeps coming, we can't use money." His expression grew distressed. "And he _always comes!" _

Yuffie, who hadn't left but had her feet propped up on the table, smirked. "Especially now that _Cloud _plays. We used to be able to get away with a proper game about three times a month before. Now, it's chips all the way!" She pumped a fist into the air.

Tifa, sitting momentarily in the seat beside her, started grinning. "I told you, didn't I? It's only a matter of _time, _dear, before those two are all _over _each other." She turned, glancing over at them, and snorted. "God, you could cut the tension between those two with a knife."

"Sexual tension," Axel clarified. Yuffie nodded emphatically, waving a hand in his direction. Then she suddenly remembered her earlier convictions about the redhead, and glowered. She sat up sharply.

"You. And Zexion. Hurting Roxas. _Bad."_

"Don't worry, Yuffie," Demyx sang from the bar. "Uncle Demy's come to save the day. I'm part of the process now, and I'll beat up anyone with my sitar that doesn't agree!"

Apparently satisfied with this arrangement, Yuffie backed down. Sora brightened.

"I'm always the last to know everything," he complained, with an odd mixture of happiness in his tone. "So that means you're one of us now, Roxas?"

Roxas nodded. "Yep. The cuts on my chest agree, at any rate."

Both Axel and Zexion winced. "You know," Zexion called from beside Demyx, "you can probably let that go now. Aerith got to me earlier after you two left and chewed me out about that little mishap."

Axel shoved more chips in his mouth. "Glad it wasn't me," he muttered through his food.

"All right, enough chit-chat," Luxord declared. "Everybody to their seats in five seconds, or you're out of the round."

There was a flurry of motion as everyone returned to the table, Larxene toting a mostly filled bottle of vodka, sucking on it periodically. She resumed her seat beside Roxas, glanced at the lowered level of his drink, popped the glass neck from her lips and started glugging the fluid into his glass. Roxas tilted his head. "Uh, that's not…"

"Your drink is vodka and lime," she explained patiently. "I'm just upping the vodka, newbie."

"I see."

When it was filled almost to the brim, she tipped the bottle back towards her mouth and sucked on the end of it, tongue pressing down into the neck in a distracting fashion. Roxas blinked, shook himself, turned to look at Axel, who was similarly diverted by the blonde's antics.

"Larx, stop giving head to the vodka," he said intently after a minute. "You're giving me a headache."

She chuckled huskily, shooting him a sly look. "Sure that's not a ball-ache, Axie? What are you waiting for, your boyfriend's right next to you."

"Yeah, you shut up," the redhead grumbled. "I'll _ball _you, alright."

"Please, she's not worth it," Luxord muttered, flitting out cards to the gathered. Deciding he'd like to keep his dignity intact, Sora had opted out, was sitting on Riku's lap, glancing curiously as his hand revealed itself.

"Sora, stop looking," the silver-haired teen sighed. "You'll give me away."

"Sora, keep looking and I'll give you a cookie," Demyx promised. Sora met his boyfriend's eyes, Riku having paused to give him a meaningful look. After a beat, the brunet dutifully turned his gaze to one side. "Sorry, Dem."

Roxas picked up his own cards, Axel's place on the table blank, Luxord leaving him free to explain the rules and guide the blond's actions. As Roxas took a swig of his drink – decidedly more vodka – the redhead lowered to his ear, breath hot and moist, the smell of booze assaulting Roxas' nostrils. "Okay," he said quietly, "let's see – a three, two sevens, a queen and a ten. You need to keep your face totally straight when I say this, but that's a shitty hand, Rox. Keep the sevens, keep the queen, palm off the other two."

Roxas slipped the offensively useless cards from his hand, lay them flat on the table, expression emotionless. Axel rapped his knuckles on the table. "Give us two." They flicked across instantly, coming to a sharp stop under Axel's fingertips. He peeled up the corners, said loudly, "Demyx, fuck off." The blond yelped, drew back from where he'd been peeking, smiling sheepishly at Roxas' reprimanding glare.

Luxord called, "Tifa?"

"Dem," she warned, "once more and it's a forfeit. That means you go naked again."

"And no one's ready for that," Leon muttered. "I'm not nearly drunk enough."

"I've got my eye on you, Demyx," Tifa finished. The blond whimpered and cowered.

Axel murmured, "The cards are okay. You won't lose." Roxas picked them up. A queen and a five. "Two pair." The redhead shrugged slightly, eyes darting around the table. "Larx is holding out. Look at her."

Roxas glanced up, saw the blonde was back to fellating the vodka bottle, pausing every now and then to swig. A slight smile twitched the corners of her mouth. "Either that," he replied softly, "or she just really loves giving blow jobs." Axel snorted a laugh.

The door opened, a tired-looking Vaan entering the room as Axel placed a bet of four chips on Roxas' behalf. "Hey, everyone," the teen greeted, shifting instantly over to the bar.

"Thought you'd be here earlier," Riku said, glancing up. The guy shrugged, pouring some scotch over a couple ice cubes in a tumbler.

"Naminé got me talking when she started her shift. Wants me to get her some colours for her art."

To Roxas, Riku explained, "Vaan's got contacts in the – er – "

"Trade business would be the polite term," Zexion supplied, faintly smiling.

Vaan was looking uncomfortable. "Yeah, 'trade'. Just keep quiet about it. If there's something you want but can't find around town, leave me a note and I'll see what I can do."

"…Right," said Roxas slowly. "Thanks."

The white-blond teen came over to the table, took Sora's old seat, settling his glass carefully on the green felt. "So, I'm guessing Sora's out for good." The brunet ruefully plucked at the elastic of his boxers. Vaan pushed his chair back, dipped his head under the table. "Everyone but Dem still in pants." Then, "Larxene, put your legs together."

"Skank," Axel added. She sneered, Vaan returning to the surface, taking a mouthful of scotch.

"You techies are all about charm," Cloud drawled. He tossed down his cards. "I'm out."

Tifa wolf-whistled. "First to fold! Off with them, Cloud!"

He shot her a dirty look. "This is only so I don't lose all my fucking chips." Indeed, his pile was pitiful. He unbuckled his belt, slipped it out of the loops, dropped it on the floor.

Yuffie howled and slapped the table several times. "Now the pants! _The pants!" _

"You know, this really isn't fair," he muttered. "You get off on me stripping, and I could care less when it's the other way round."

Yuffie scoffed. "Oh, come on, it's not like you don't get to get off. You perv on _all _the guys, Cloud."

"Do not," he shot back, unbuttoning his jeans and slipping them off. Leon, to everyone's amusement, followed the motions hungrily. Only Cloud was oblivious, caught up with glaring at Yuffie. The blond sat back down, disgruntled. Larxene slid low in her seat, grunting with effort, then a moment later sighed, pushing up again. "If my legs were longer, my foot would be all over your cock right now, Cloud."

Roxas drank deeply, Axel snorting and rolling his eyes while Cloud choked and Leon glowered. Larxene flipped him off, as he reached for his chips to place a bet. He frowned. "Where's all my chips? I had more than this a minute ago…"

Cloud swivelled in his chair. "You know, Leon? You can go fuck yourself."

The man spluttered, astounded. "Wh – _what? _What'd I do?"

"What'd you _do? _Oh, so you're _not _accusing me of stealing your chips. Oh, great, that's fine then. I just steal everything _else _as far as you're concerned."

"I _still _haven't accused you! You're accusing your_self!"_

"That may be, but at least _I _know I didn't _do it!"_

"Hello, guys, game going on here?" Axel raised his eyebrows, waved two fingers. "Yeah, hi. Shut the fuck up. Keep it to the bedroom."

Again, both men nearly had coronaries at the suggestion. Tifa snorted loudly, Yuffie chugged back another shot, and Vaan quietly sipped his whisky.

"Rii-ku, I wanna see your _cards. _It's boring not knowing!"

Kairi sat up suddenly. _"Where the fuck am I?" _

"Go to sleep, bitch," Axel yelled. She fell back down.

"She sleep-talks when she'd drunk," Riku explained to Roxas, who was clutching his cards like life-support. "You have to be firm, or she'll start walking around."

"You're all completely insane," the blond said dubiously. "You do know that, right?" His gaze swept the table, many sets of innocent eyes watching. "Right?"

"Time to show your hand, Roxas," Luxord commanded. Axel pushed their cards to the table. Everyone stared for a moment. All other cards were already down, their faces showing. "Beginner's luck," the man grumbled at last.

All the chips went to Roxas.


	20. Chapter 20

**A/N: **Sorry for the delay – most reviewers know it's because I was so busy yesterday, and, well, now so does everyone else. (Brain's, um, in the off position, I think). This one's really not so good, mostly because it was written almost exclusively around midnight, and then today I've been so sleepy because I was awake til three… Also, as per usual, the several events I had planned have been cut down to… well, still poker night :P So yes, apologies are in order, but I am awfully tired, and things'll pick up again in the coming chapters. Also, I got me an LJ account, so if you want to come say hi, grab the link from my profile. Much love to you, cool, cool people! _falls sideways off chair_

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CHAPTER TWENTY

Smoke filled the air, Axel adding to the fog with a cigar, Riku with a cigarette dangling from his lips, Sora dozing quietly against his shoulder, curled against his bare chest. Roxas was slumped down in his chair, cards held out, eyes swinging in and out of focus, alcohol humming through his veins. Larxene was one loss away from flashing her breasts to the world, Yuffie momentarily awake having spent the previous four rounds unconscious on the table again. Cloud had lost all his chips, was lying with his head down, breathing slowly, eyes gently shut. Leon stared at him, hardly even playing the game anymore, a tender expression on his face. Kairi had roused, surprisingly still clothed, and come to sit beside Axel in Demyx's old seat, the blond mimicking Sora, fast asleep on Zexion's lap, his heavy breaths overlapping the quiet, background music. The girl leaned against her brother, sleepily watching his cards as his long, deft fingers slid them back and forth, arranging the fan into order with each new hand. The redhead had linked his ankle behind Roxas' under the table, the contact keeping them allies even as they played against one another.

"Three." Vaan slapped his rejects down, gestured, accepted the replacement. He raised a fist to his lips, cleared his throat, picked up his latest drink, ice cubes clinking, drained the last of it. He licked his lips as he set it down. Kairi turned to whisper into Axel's ear, making the man shrug. He plucked out a card, took another in return, pulled out his cigar and blew out a smoggy lungful, squinting at the patterns hovering and swimming through the air. Kairi chose his chips and slid them into the centre of the table. Larxene's lips pursed. "Meet." She matched the bet.

"Raise." Roxas upped the ante, and Riku shook his head.

"Fold." The cigarette bobbed. He dropped his cards face-down, leaned back, shifting Sora against his chest, lifting up a leg. "Vaan. De-sock me." He wriggled one white-clad foot.

"Oh, fuck off," Leon scoffed. "A sock is not a forfeit."

"Fuck yes it is," the teen objected, teeth clenched to keep from dropping the cigarette. "It's a legitimate item of clothing."

"It should've come off already, both should, when you lost your shoes," the brunet argued. "It's _strip _poker, Riku, not fucking – gradual – laundry day poker!"

"I lost my shirt, didn't I?"

"You fucking _bitch. _Cloud's in his _underwear."_

"So's Sora!"

"Shut. Up," Cloud muttered. He sucked a trail of drool noisily back into his mouth, sat up rubbing the pressed-flat side of his face slowly. "You woke me up," he said petulantly. "I can't play anymore, and now I can't even sleep."

"I offered you some of my chips," Leon reminded him.

"I don't need them," the blond snapped.

"Can we play the fucking game?" Roxas asked hoarsely, blinking sharply out of a tired, mindless stare. Axel took his chin, ran a thumb across the soft skin of his jaw, a flesh kiss. Kairi smiled warmly at them. Vaan shrugged, tugged at the toe of Riku's sock, yanked it a couple times until the pale foot was exposed. He tossed it across the table, hitting Demyx's back, the blond slumbering on heedlessly. Zexion glared, resting his cheek against the back of Demyx's head, elbows gently propped against his broad shoulder.

"You know, Cloud," said Yuffie, as several more bets were placed around the table, "you don't need to bet with chips…"

"It's not the chips I'm worried about," he explained grumpily. "I'm in my underwear and I'm shit at this game – you really think I'm walking back to my room stark naked?"

She smiled thinly, stuck an elbow on the table, chin in hand, scraping her fan slowly back and forth across her nose. "Well, what if we make it so you don't have to take anything _off? _Say, for example, you just have to start adding things – dumb things. Riku's hair tie, just your belt – we could totally turn you into a gimp."

Tifa, silent and patient by the bar, clapped her hands sharply, startling Roxas out of his freshly sunken reverie, stirring Sora, making him nuzzle Riku's collarbone. "Yes, that's so great!" she enthused. "Come on, Cloud, you're already almost naked – and you're among friends!"

The blond was suspicious. "That felt… rehearsed."

"Rehearsed?" The black-haired woman blinked innocently. Yuffie snorted.

"Yeah, we totally thought this up beforehand, coz we knew you'd end up losing."

"You have to admit, Cloud is pretty consistently shit," Riku pointed out dubiously, plucking out his cigarette to knock ash into the tray provided. "It wouldn't be hard to do."

"Come on, people!" the ninja cried, smacking the table. "Conspiracy theories to be left at the door! We're innocent! We just want Cloud to stop sleeping through poker night!"

After a moment's internal debate, the blond finally assented, disgruntled. "Alright."

Axel raised his eyebrows at the wicked grin that flashed and was smothered.

"Show your hand," Luxord commanded dryly, utterly uninterested in the conversation. Cards lay on the table, winnings going to Larxene.

Roxas drained his glass as Luxord collected the cards and began his elaborate shuffling process. The alcohol had ceased to burn his throat as it went down, each drinking getting stronger, Larxene personally overseeing the blond's intake. He sighed, placing the glass back down, Axel leaning back to blow smoke rings at the ceiling, pushing back to stretch his legs. Roxas took a deep breath, let it out with a murmur, wrapped himself around the redhead's free arm, snuggling close, eyes slipping shut, listening to the scrapes and voices around the room. Axel rested his cigar into the ashtray, brought his newly empty hand around, stinking of tobacco, to leaf through the soft spikes adorning the blond's head. He pressed his nose into the thatch, inhaling deeply, nudging him slightly with his nose.

"I don't know about you," he whispered, "but I'm starting to think sleep is a good thing."

Roxas made a small noise, torn between protest and agreement. He was so tired, face throbbing almost pleasantly along the lines and rises of his swelling bruises, eyes scratchy and hot, shutting them such a sinful satisfaction. "Another round," he mumbled, rubbing his skin against Axel's shirt, pushing his forehead into the material, concentrating only on the feeling. Axel smiled, sighed through his nose. He caught Roxas' chin, tipped his head back, kissed him carefully.

"Alright. One more."

"You're leaving?" Yuffie demanded, halting mid-stretch, glaring. Axel glanced up.

"Yuf, it's two in the morning. Roxie's had enough to drink, I haven't slept in a billion years, we're both kind of dying in our seats."

"I'm actually starting to feel a little sick," the blond muttered. "I'd say I've had more than enough."

"Gonna hurl?" Riku asked, crushing his cigarette out, fingers slightly yellowed, free hand gently massaging Sora's scalp, the boy purring slightly even in slumber. Roxas shook his head.

"Just feeling… icky."

"Icky." Vaan laughed. "Nice. Me, I could do with another." He raised his glass, shook it, the remaining ice cubes chinking against the sides. "Oh, barmaid!"

"Don't you think you've had enough?" Zexion asked, eyebrow raised, arms wrapped around Demyx's kittenish form. Vaan leaned forward, smirking.

"Who says how many's enough?"

"What's this, your seventh?" the man asked sceptically.

"Eighth," Tifa supplied, coming over to take the glass. She shrugged. "It'll be _his_ headache in the morning."

"Stressed?" Axel asked. "You've been drinking harder and harder lately."

The white-blond teen glowered a little, fingers drumming the table. "What are you guys, my fucking multiple mothers? Gonna tell me to pick up my room?"

"Gonna tell you you're turning into an alcoholic," the redhead replied. The boy rolled his eyes.

"Hardly. I know my limit, assholes. Just keep an eye on your own."

Everyone kind of shrugged, left the boy alone, ears shut to any advice they might feel like giving. Roxas slung a leg over Axel's lap, and started to squirm over, grabbing his shoulder, lifting himself wobblingly, settling in a straddle. Axel hooked his fingers around the teen's back, pulled him a little closer, pressed their foreheads together.

"How you doing, Roxie?"

"_Axel's _Roxie," the blond reminded him with a slight slur. The redhead grinned.

"_Axel's _Roxie," he agreed.

"I'm glad you didn't jump off a cliff like the – the – one-armed man said you would."

"Vincent has a flair for the dramatic," he muttered. Roxas smiled, poked their noses together.

"Makes two of you."

"Why, Roxas, you little bitch." He kissed the boy, threaded his fingers through the hair at the back of his head, pressed them firmly together. Roxas responded eagerly, shifting closer, hands wrapping around the slender neck of the other, forcing his tongue into the redhead's mouth, licking the muscle he met, the hard teeth, the smoky cavern.

Axel's eyebrows shot up, almost pulling back from surprise. Roxas shook his head sharply, gasped, dove back in, breathing hard, wet noises coming from the pair as Axel submitted to the intensity. Almost as soon as he had control, Roxas gave it up, chose to move along the side of the fair face, pausing only to touch kisses to each tattoo, shifting small licks across his cheek and over to his ear, taking the lobe between his teeth and nipping down. Axel couldn't suppress the groan that rose, attracting several amused glances.

Roxas breathed in sharply, the noise loud in the redhead's ear, hands reaching up to tug him back to his mouth. They connected, Roxas' fingers massaging the back of Axel's neck, nails scraping through the thick hair, seizing small handfuls and tugging. The older of the two hummed intently, lips pressing thin as Roxas drew back, hands pulling free of the blazing red, trailing down his chest, settling between their bodies to roll inexpertly in the redhead's lap. Axel's eyes shot open, a strangled gasp escaping. He licked his lips quickly, glanced sideways to where Kairi had her back deliberately turned, chatting determinedly brightly to Zexion. He pressed a hand against Roxas' chest, pushing him back a little, making the blond whine in protest. He laughed slightly, breathlessly.

"Roxie, not – not here, okay?"

"Come on," Roxas muttered thickly. "It's not like you haven't got any experience."

Axel stared, then tipped his head back with a sigh. "And if I needed further proof that you're drunk off your fucking skull, there it is." He smiled a little. "I wish you were this perverted when you were sober."

"Gimme tiiiime," the blond hissed, grinding his hips slightly, making Axel grunt, "but right now, hammered Axel's Roxie wants to keep kissing and _stuff. _Doesn't hammered Axel want to as well?"

"Sober Axel wants to, too, you know," the man replied, lips twitching. "But…" He kissed him. "As much as I'd love to take advantage of this wonderfully horny Axel's Roxie, I think Roxie's Roxie might kick my ass in the morning if he woke up with me inside his."

Roxas blinked suddenly, slightly shocked. "Yeah – I think he might."

"Are you two in or out?" Luxord's dry voice cut through, brought their heads around, Roxas frowning a little. Yuffie stood abruptly, hands planted on the table, glaring.

"They're in. Totally in." She grabbed up an empty shot glass, threw it at Sora, the thunk as it connected with his skull making everybody but Riku wince. The silver-haired teen let out a startled noise as Sora snapped awake crying, "Ow! What the fuck? _Ow!" _He rubbed the side of his head frantically, almost in tears at the sudden, violent, painful waking. Riku glowered viciously, straightening, holding the brunet protectively.

"What the _fuck _was that for, you fucking _bitch?"_

Yuffie was already throwing a second one at Demyx. Zexion's reflexes kicked in, he smacked it, deflecting it into the wall. It broke when it hit the floor. "Yuffie, stop that," Leon rapped sharply. "What the hell are you doing?"

"Everybody's in on this round," she answered, scowling. "No more sleeping, not for anyone!"

"Huh." Larxene rolled her eyes, adjusting the cups of her bra. "And you call _me _crazy?"

"Seems you're contagious, love," Luxord said mildly.

"Yuffie!" Sora's eyes swam, glaring angrily, curling deeper into Riku's embrace. "Why'd you do that? That _hurt!"_

"Yuffie's out of the game," Riku snapped. "I'm not playing with her. She just went stupid drunk, and everybody knows the rules."

"I'm not being stupid drunk," the girl howled, dragging at her hair. "Just everybody fucking play the round! I'll go afterwards, just _play!"_

"Yuffie, what the _hell?"_

She tore her hands down, planted her fists on her hips. "Not another word! You're all in! Luxord, _deal!"_

The man needed no second prompting, cards already whizzing around, serving everyone. "But what if I lose?" Sora cried. "I don't want to go naked!"

"What's going on?" Demyx mumbled, rubbing the top of his head. He smiled sleepily. "Hi, Kairi. Sleep-walking, or awake?"

"Hi, Demyx. Awake. You?"

"Awake," he nodded. He frowned. "I don't know why, though. I was sleeping."

"At least you didn't get hit with a _glass," _Sora pouted. Demyx blinked, then pointed and laughed.

"You got hit with a glass?"

Zexion pinched the flesh of his stomach, silencing him as both Sora and Riku glared.

"So, what's the big deal, Yuf?" Kairi asked. The ninja had seated herself, was looking flustered and agitated.

"I just – everyone's going to sleep. We need to have a game with _all_ of us."

"You couldn't wake me normally?" Sora demanded.

"Glass was faster, stop whining," she scolded.

"He has a lump on his head," Riku snarled, fingers gently touching under the spiky hair.

"It'll be worth it," the girl shouted. "Leave me alone! Hate me tomorrow, play the goddamn game _now!"_

Gaining some nasty looks from around the table, Yuffie pointedly picked up her cards. After a moment, the others followed suit. A silence settled, the sound of flicking overlaying the jazz as people discarded, sorted, added, played their various faces. "Place bets," Luxord said.

"Before Yuffie tries to kill you," Riku added, shooting her a dark look. She flipped him off. Roxas sat on Axel's lap still, facing the table, their arms interlinked, both sets of cards set up, swapping between the two hands. Luxord glared, but didn't comment, apparently aware that this particular poker night was falling down around his ears.

Cloud was looking unhappy, his poker face very much like his regular face. His downfall was that, if he had a good hand, he actually looked pleased with himself for once. Thus, his appalling skills, his distinct lack of clothing.

"Me and Roxie have a full-house between us," Axel announced, Kairi pushing the last of their chips to the middle pile. "We kick all your asses."

"Scarcely," Luxord sniffed. The man lay down his hand, a royal flush. Cloud was busily hitting his head against the table, not even bothering to shrug Leon off as the man patted his bare back. Yuffie stood, leaned across the table, almost climbing onto it to view his cards. That same gleeful grin tugged the corners of her mouth, quickly stifled. Poker face firmly in place, she shrugged, stood, walked over to Tifa, who was waiting, passing her something in a bag.

Riku narrowed his eyes. "Okay, what are you doing to Cloud?"

Yuffie spun on the spot, singing, "No-thing!" She trotted over. "Well, okay, something. Everybody remember to bring cameras? No? That's okay, Tifa did!"

The woman had it out, adjusting the zoom, the flash, readying it at her eye, finger poised over the button. Cloud was getting increasingly nervous.

"So this _was_ planned?"

"Of _course _it was, darling boy. Now stand!"

All eyes were upon the blond, confused, worried, getting up slowly from his chair. "We're putting something _on, _though, right?" he asked, hands going protectively to the sides of his shorts.

Yuffie and Tifa burst into identical peals of laughter. Leon's eyebrow rose slowly, glancing between them. "If it's anything too bad, he doesn't have to do it…"

"I'm afraid he does," Luxord interjected smoothly. "Rules of the game, Cloud's more than aware. He did agree, and he played the round."

"And lost spectacularly," Vaan pointed out. Cloud glared at them all, shifting anxiously from foot to foot.

"Okay, so what's in the bag, Yuffie?"

She unveiled the contents with a flourish. "Ta-daaa!"

Roxas started laughing, and wasn't quite sure how to stop. Everyone else just stared.

"_High fucking heeled shoes?" _Cloud looked traumatised. "Yuffie, I can't walk in those! I'll kill myself!"

"Ah, the joys of womanhood." She dropped them unsympathetically. "Put em on, Spiky."

The man looked around for help, deer-in-spotlight as his eyes fell upon the smirking Leon. "Leon, you said…"

"I was overruled," the man replied quietly. "Looks like you've got no choice, Cloud."

Roxas bent over the table, gripping his stomach, Axel patting his back with a worried grin. "Keep breathing, Roxie."

Larxene looked like someone had given her a new lease on life. She jumped up, sitting on the back of her chair, hands on her lap, eagerly awaiting the prize that was Cloud in women's heels.

"Come on, Cloud, it's all your own damn fault," Yuffie stated firmly. "You're the smartass that thought it up, you're gonna finish this one, walking all the way back to your room."  
He bristled suddenly, growing hateful. "Yuffie, I am not happy with you," he growled.

She rolled her eyes, flipped a hand carelessly. "Ah, tell it to someone who cares. Make with the shoes."

Cloud hesitated, fingers balling into fists, obviously struggling for a solution. Evidently out of ideas, he hissed, _"Fuck." _He bent, snatched up the shoes, sat on his chair and tugged them on. "How come their big e-fucking-nough for me?" he demanded, as they slid easily onto his feet. "Did you special-order these?"

Leon blinked. "Is that why you asked me his shoe size?" he asked Tifa. She winked, refocused the lens. Cloud turned red, apoplectic.

"_You told them my shoe size?"_

"I thought it was for Aerith," the man defended.

"Oh, it was," Yuffie nodded, swinging her arms back and forth, smiling broadly. "She's the one that ordered them. She sure moves fast when she wants to. Why do you think we're taking a picture?"

"Aerith was in on this _too?" _Cloud cried. He set his feet back down, knees turning inward as he tried to automatically press his heels to the floor and was halted. He looked down miserably. "Oh, man, I'm going to break my ankles."

"Leon can help you," Tifa suggested. "After all, he's the one that got you into this mess in the first place!"

Amusement all around as Cloud suddenly whipped around, furious. "They're right!" He punched Leon's shoulder ineffectively. "This is _all _your fucking fault!"

"Then – " Leon cleared his throat, expression carefully schooled. "Allow me to help you."

"Madam," Riku added. Cloud bared his teeth and snarled across the table.

"Easy, tiger," Axel taunted, drawing the breathless Roxas close, the blond still having hopeless hysterics.

"I fucking hate you _all." _Cloud gripped the table and the back of his chair and levered himself up, muscles hardening as he attempted to find a centre of balance. Leon stood, shirtless but wearing pants still, barefoot, and prepared to catch the man if he fell. Cloud glared, jerking his arms out of range, wobbling. "I can do it _myself."_ He took a hesitant heel-toe step, swayed dangerously, grabbed the chair again, huffed. His eyes narrowed at Tifa, who was moving around to get a better position for the photo. "You're a pair of goddamn bitches," he hissed.

"And now you can be a sexy bitch _with_ us," Yuffie declared brightly. She clapped her hands. "Come on, Cloud, shake that ass, hips swinging, baby!"

He lunged at her, hands clawing, and promptly fell, howling in pain as his ankles twisted out from under him. Yuffie jumped back, cringing at the thump as Cloud, without a chance to catch himself, slammed chin-first to the ground. Tifa let out a yelp of startled laughter, waited until Leon was crouching to pick the man up, and took the photo with a bright flash.

"_I'll fucking kill you!" _the man roared. Letting out shrill, frightened, hysterical giggles, the two women grabbed hands and ran for the exit, the camera bouncing from its strap around Tifa's wrist. Cloud let out a bellow, started crawling fast, ass in the air, knocking chairs. Leon gulped and covered his eyes, wheeling away towards the wall, hitting his head very deliberately against it.

"Tense, Leon?" Larxene smirked. He flipped her off. There was a final shriek as the ladies slammed the door and went bolting off down the corridor, Cloud screaming obscenities in their wake.

"Whoa." Axel blinked, hitching the now quiet, but half-giggling, Roxas into a new position. "Cloud's gone bugfuck."

Luxord sighed, shook his head, gathering the cards. "Philistines, the lot of you."

Axel took a breath through his nose, leaned forward to glance at Roxas. "Can we go now?"

The blond nodded, wiping his eyes, tiny bubbles of laughter gasping out. "Axel's Roxie is ready to go," he choked, a broad smile twitching his mouth. Axel rolled his eyes, pushed the chair back while Leon went to help Cloud to his feet. The redhead stood, pulling Roxas to his feet, the teen's legs shaky and rubbery. An eyebrow cocking, Axel asked, "Larx, how much did you corrupt my Roxie?"

"Only a little," she replied innocently.

"Maybe I _want _to be corrupted," the blond pointed out. Then, hanging his head, "I really don't feel so good."

"Take him out of here, Axel," Luxord warned. "No vomiting in the card room."

"Yes, Luxord, thank you for your concern," the other man sighed. He shot a glance over at Kairi. "You leaving yet?"

She shrugged. "I'll go with Riku and Sora."

"Ah, threesomes, the joy that is life with two best friends."

Sora wrinkled his nose. "Ew. Not with Kairi. She's a girl."

"Wouldn't want to catch cooties," Riku agreed. Roxas shook his head.

"No, cooties don't exist. Axel and I already discussed this, like, forever ago."

"Ah, but we ascertained that _boy _cooties don't exist," Axel reminded him, slipping an arm around him to hold him up, other arm winding around his waist to keep him steady. "Kairi is an entirely different matter."

The wine-haired girl pouted, arms crossing. "You guys sure know how to make a girl feel wanted," she said sarcastically. She gestured over to where Leon was balancing Cloud, telling the man to take baby-steps. "And now it seems my dreams of a straight Leon are also shattered." She shook her head sadly. "Life really isn't fair sometimes."

"Weep, Kairi, that always helps," Larxene said sweetly, making the younger girl scowl.

"Well, we're going," Axel announced, heading over towards the door. "See you guys tomorrow, when we're all hung-over and coughing." He nodded to Cloud as they passed, added, "Ma'am."

"Yeah, just fucking laugh," the blond man grumbled, reluctantly gripping Leon's shoulder, shuffling with difficulty to the lavender sofa.

"Oh, I'm pretty sure Roxie already got us covered for that," came the bright response as they left the room. Roxas chuckled weakly, Axel half-carrying him as they went back to his room. He reached the door and paused, arms full. "Roxie, wrap your legs around my waist."

"With pllllleasure," the blond whispered into his ear, clinging tight, knees gripping the redhead's ribs. Axel groaned, free now to open the door, and staggered into the dark room.

"Roxas, seriously, I'm so tired – why are you choosing _now _to be a horny little bastard?" he complained.

"One doesn't _choose _to be a horny bastard, one simply _is," _the blond growled, and bit his ear a second time. "I'm just returning the favour."

Axel flopped onto the bed, dragging Roxas with him, sighing heavily. "So, do you think you'll still be returning it when you're sober and I have more energy?"

"No promises," Roxas teased. He crawled onto Axel's chest, sat up on the man's stomach. "Do you know," he said thoughtfully, hands pushing up Axel's shirt, gathering it at the man's armpits. "These last couple of days have been incredibly fucked-up." He leaned down and licked one nipple, making the redhead shudder and moan. "But tonight was the most fun I've had in a long time," he muttered, kissing the flat sternum.

"Glad to… help?"

"You will be," the blond promised with an unsteady grin. His eyes slipped back and forth, unable to rest exclusively upon Axel's face, pupils dilated, whites bloodshot. He reeked of vodka. Axel closed his eyes as Roxas lowered to his other nipple, lips closing around it to gently suck.

"Fuck, fuck, _fuck! Stop!" _His hands grabbed Roxas' face, and with great distress, he detached the boy.

Lips spit-shiny, Roxas frowned from between Axel's palms. "Am I doing it wrong?"

Axel let out a hysterical laugh. "You – you're…" He squeezed his eyes shut, swallowed hard. "Damn it, Roxas, you're doing everything very, very nicely, and – and I hate Larxene, because she's a bitch who got you drunk."

"I'm not just doing this because I'm drunk," Roxas scowled. "I like it. I want to."

"I want you to do it when you're sober, though," Axel replied desperately, wanting to slap himself silly even as the words left his mouth.

"But that's unfair," the blond argued, grabbing hold of Axel's hands and tugging them away. "We're right here, we both want to – why won't you let anything be simple?"

"Because," the redhead replied softly, "there's plenty of time for us to get drunk and fuck each other's brains out, Roxas – but, bless my sentimental little heart, I'm not going to let your first time be like this."

"Who said we were gonna have sex?" Roxas tipped his head to the side and blinked.

"You just sucked my fucking nipple," Axel growled. "That's some prime-example foreplay, right there."

Roxas smirked, settled down with his forearms pressed against the man's chest, face lowering. "And you liked it. So how is this bad?"

"Because I'm a hopeless romantic." Axel leaned up, kissed him roughly, grabbed his shoulders and flipped him over, knees bent at the blond's armpits, arching over to continue the kiss unbroken. Roxas squirmed, bucked upward, then gasped as Axel swung off the bed, pulling the hem of his shirt back down. "Besides," the redhead added, "I'd rather undress you all by myself. You can get your shirt and sweater in the morning. All bets end at daybreak."

"Axel, I _want _you," Roxas cried, arms outstretched. Axel visibly shivered, but shook his head roughly.

"I've wanted you a lot longer," he said, voice with a harsh edge, cutting off any further protest as he moved over to the door. "And I've held off. So now it's your turn, Rox." He paused, hall light spilling in, turning to smile, though Roxas couldn't see it, could only see the flame that was Axel's hair, shadow where his face once was. "I'm glad you had fun. And I'm happy that you want me. And – thanks for understanding earlier, Roxas."

Roxas curled up on his side, looking suddenly like a small, vulnerable boy in amongst the messy bedcovers. "I was telling the truth, you know," the blond said quietly. "I really – I'm falling for you a lot, Axel. I… feel a lot."

Axel hesitated, nodded abruptly. "That's… good to know."

Roxas yawned widely, stifled it with one hand. "I'll be sure," he said sleepily, "to let Roxie's Roxie know that you didn't molest us too badly while we were intoxicated."

"Oh, there's two of you now?"

"There's the Roxie that exists all by himself…" Roxas' eyes slid shut, the bed, the alcohol, the exhaustion taking over. "And then there's the Roxie that belongs entirely to you… and they're really not so different…"

"That sounds… fine to me," Axel replied gently.

"Go to bed, Axel," the teen murmured, nose burrowing into the pillow. He hummed briefly. "Everything smells like smoke…"

"Good-night, Roxie."

"Good-night…"

"I'll leave a note for Aerith to come get you in the morning, okay?"

Roxas shook himself slightly more alert. "What? Why? Am I working with the Committee again?"

Axel snuffed a laugh. "No, but you'll feel like hell when you wake up. She'll take care of you."

"I'd really rather it was you…" Roxas' voice failed and trailed off, silence filling the room. Axel stared as the blond slipped into slumber. For a moment, he paced back into the room, approaching the bed hesitantly. He gazed down at the sleeping huddle, remembered back to that first night, Roxas so dizzy and disorientated, when Axel had had to leave him. Back then, now… The two versions of the blond looked no different to one another, but this one – this one was actually falling in love with him. He'd confessed, and it now seemed that it hadn't just been to stop Axel from somehow hurting himself. Everything was… paying off.

He was so tired. It had been too long since he'd last seen Demyx's bed. He needed sleep so badly… but he still couldn't help wasting away the next twenty minutes, watching his Roxie breathe.


	21. Chapter 21

**A/N: **Hello, hello :) I'll give the disclaimer once again of gears changing, events falling into place, so you don't all decide I'm crap after all and the story's too slow :P Other than that, I don't have much to say about this one, except that I hope you like it!

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CHAPTER TWENTY-ONE

Ghosts were dancing, one with red hair, one with blond, in the blazing sunshine. Roxas stood on the sidelines and watched them, a woman in white beside him, hands folded neatly against her long skirt. The children laughed, floating in and out of existence, darting between the struts of the play equipment. Nothing was broken. No one was dead.

"My ghost is here, too," the woman said, eyes scanning the area slowly. She paused, inclined her head towards the bench in the corner of the playground, to where two women sat. They chatted animatedly, one eye fixed perpetually upon their little phantoms. Roxas studied them for a moment, turned to glance at the woman by his side.

"…You're the ghost." He flicked a look back at the women. "She's still alive."

"She's dead."

Roxas frowned, eyes finding the small ones again, their squeals and cries filling the air. "And those two?"

She watched them, a faint fondness around her mouth. "One of those two is mine. He said good-bye to me tonight."

Roxas scratched his head. "I'm confused," he confessed. She smiled, touched his arm.

"That's alright. I didn't expect you to understand."

"How old are they?" he asked suddenly, nodding at the kids. She sighed wistfully.

"Older than they look." She turned to him, cupped his cheek. "Those bones missed you. Bones are bones."

"How can bones feel anything?"

"They can be broken, can't they?"

He blinked, baffled. "I guess."

"Break them, Roxas." Her voice was stern, eyes suddenly intent. "Break his bones. His left leg has a weakness. Your father's keyblades were always better as bludgeons than cutting weapons… When you get the chance, just break him."

"_Roxas, be careful of Axel's hair! Don't pull!"_

Roxas turned, distracted. The blond kid started yelling, complaining, while the red-haired ghost pouted and rubbed his head. _"But mom, he – "_

"But mom, he – " Roxas swung his head sideways to where she'd stood, found himself alone. Panic fluttered in his chest. He twisted slowly on the spot, searching, and when he came back to face the two mothers and their sons, they, too, were gone.

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A cool hand touched his forehead.

"Mom?" Roxas muttered.

A small, affectionate sigh. "Again? Why is everyone calling me their mother lately?"

"I guess they must be fond of you."

Roxas blinked open his eyes, eyebrows drawing together. "What?"

Aerith swam into view, smiling wryly. "Good morning, young man. Feeling bright?"

"I feel…" He gagged. A pair of hands grabbed Aerith, pulled her back.

"Oh-ho-ho, no you don't. No one upchucks on momma Aerith, kid."

She tugged free, scolding, "Zack! Stop that. He needs help."

"He needs a _shower." _Something hideously large and bouncy threw itself on the bed, and the owner of the voice was suddenly on top of Roxas, blue eyes shining, black spiky hair falling over his face, grinning maniacally. "So, kid, tell me – did Spiky _really _try walking in heels? Because I'm pretty sure he swore 'never again' after that one time with this guy called Don…" Aerith smacked him sharply across the back of the head, making him whine. "Oww! Aer!"

"That's quite enough of that," she said primly. She smiled down at Roxas. "Don't mind Zack. He's an old friend of Cloud's and mine. He's come to visit, and it's just… unfortunate for you that it happens to be when you're not feeling well."

The man, Zack, straightened, simulating offence. "Oh, I see how it is – Aerith gets to play nursemaid, but no one else, huh? You know what, Aer?" He leaned forward, knees still jammed either side of Roxas' waist, crushing him slowly, hands on hips. _"I _think you're just an _invalid_ hog. You want all the maternal stuff for yourself. You won't share!"

She threaded her fingers through his hair and tugged. Letting out a whimper, Zack followed the direction his spikes were being pulled, freeing Roxas. "There, that's better," she said, shooting the man a warning glance. She softened as she turned to the blond. "Take your time, okay, Roxas? When you're feeling ready, I drew a bath for you down the hall, and put some of your new clothes in there. Go get clean, get the smell of smoke from your hair, and there's a special breakfast for you all in the dining hall."

Zack sighed. "See, this is why _I _should be living here. Aerith would bathe me, feed me, wake me up each morning… I'm really not seeing a downside."

She rolled her eyes, cheeks colouring slightly. Roxas groaned. "Do I have to eat?"

She wrinkled her nose as she smiled. "Don't worry, it's Cid's special recipe, and if anyone knows hang-overs, it's him. You'll be fine. You don't have to do anything you don't want."

He threw an arm over his eyes. "In that case, I'm staying in bed," he mumbled.

"Oh, no you're not," she said sweetly. "Up you hop, Roxas, otherwise the next person in this room will be Demyx. He's really surprisingly chipper after poker nights."

Chipper Demyx. Trying to get him out of bed.

"I'll be good," the blond whimpered. Zack whistled appreciatively.

"Damn, but you fight dirty." He raised an eyebrow, bumped her with a hip. "You know, I kinda like the dirty girls."

Aerith hit him again, harder this time, making him grin. She pulled Roxas' sheets back, stripping them to the very end of the bed, folding them neatly while the blond whined and curled up to keep the cold air from the bare skin of his torso. "Come on, up," she said, with less sympathy than before. "You did this to yourself, and it doesn't get you out of a busy day. You have more time with Zexion, and tonight's your first patrol shift." She backed up, hands on hips, eyebrows rising in warning. "I will be back," she promised, "in ten minutes. If you're still in bed, there'll be trouble."

"Aeriiiith."

"Nope. Not listening!" She turned, taking Zack's arm as he held it out to her in a gentlemanly fashion, and the pair left the room. Roxas huffed out a sulking breath, scowling, fingers plucking at the pillow. Getting up was too hard. He was heavy-headed, stomach rolling unhappily, throat perched on the edge of its gag reflex. But… a bath sounded good. There were no tubs in the castle, only showers, and those were the communal ones… Where had Aerith managed to find him a bath?

At last, it was the promise of heat, and getting rid of the smoky smell which last night was an elixir, this morning just another factor of his illness, that got him clawing his way up from the mattress – that, and the threat of Demyx. The thought of that interaction actually made his stomach feel worse. For a couple of minutes, Roxas sat heavily on the edge of the bed, face lowered, hair covering his eyes, concentrating on breathing. His jeans – they were really looking gross. He could see his knees and thighs, and they were covered in all sorts of crap. New clothes – bless Aerith and her frighteningly maternal heart.

Roxas wiped his face, cleared his eyes of their grit, brushed the various bruises and winced. He scraped the hair from his face, flattening it against his crown, tucking it behind his ears, a grimace set in place as he pressed his hands to his knees and levered himself slowly to his feet. He was still in his shoes – last night, he hadn't bothered to remove anything that poker hadn't already. He pushed them off, using his feet to pry them away and drop them to the ground. Hands going to his head, holding all the broken pieces together, he shuffled to the door, still wide open, and peered through squinting eyes up and down the hall. No one was about. Thank God.

He padded down to the shower room, where Aerith had filled a large half-barrel with hot soapy water. Roxas nearly wept upon seeing the steam rise, throwing off his remaining clothes in an instant and clambering in. He sank low in the sudsy water, leaving only his nose poking out, and tried to absorb the goodness of the bath via osmosis. The cuts along his stomach and chest stung, but it was a bearable burn. God, if he could cling to this sensation for the rest of the day, he'd never feel bad again. He turned onto his side, curled up into a ball, forehead resting on the hard edge, and cast his mind back to the previous night. His memories were all perfectly intact, if perhaps a little jerky. Larxene had definitely plied him with enough, and in the end, he hadn't even had to take off his pants. How disappointing for her. Roxas was beginning to suspect that the blonde was an even bigger pervert than Axel.

Axel, though – he hadn't been a pervert at _all _last night. He'd been – the perfect _opposite, _which Roxas both felt grateful for, and disappointed by. Sure, he hadn't been exactly looking to lose his virginity, but he hadn't just been doing it because he was a pissed horn-bag, either… He'd just – lost some inhibitions about it. He'd felt sexy with the heat surging through his veins, making his head swim, and he'd wanted to make Axel feel good. It hadn't even much been about making him_self _feel good, although that was a nice bonus… it's just… Axel was so great. Roxas was seeing it more and more each day, and he'd – he'd wanted to _show _him. Not just tell him, but _show _him how happy he was making him. Roxas sighed, the air bubbling the water. There would be time for that later, he supposed. Neither of them was going anywhere anytime soon, and for the first time, that thought sent a frisson of excitement through him. He had – lots of time. Things would develop on their own, and… he'd be happy. He was already heading there. It occurred to him that it was – odd, perhaps, to be living his life based entirely upon the existence of another person. Without Axel, he didn't know what he had here. But… he was willing to find things. He would build it slowly, and Axel would – help him through it all. After all, Axel had done it sort of in reverse; he'd lived his life here, waiting for Roxas to come and complete it.

The blond smiled to himself, dipped under the surface, held his breath and opened his eyes, stared up at the ceiling. The world rippled, his fingers working the sweat, the traces of blood, the clinging smoke, the excess emotion from his hair. He could feel it all draining away, the hardship and confusion, all the negativity leaking from his pores to poison the water, to be tipped away and left behind, while Roxas emerged cleaner than he'd been in too long.

Chest growing tight, he emerged, bursting out his breath, spitting flecks of water in a fine mist, drawing freshness back into his lungs. He still felt sick, but damn it, he was really content all of a sudden. His head was aching, but the soreness of his battered body was soothed by the heat. Everything was balanced out by something else: he had left his childhood home, and found reality; he had given it all up, and found himself Axel's adoration; he was in pain, but his mind was calm, quiet, almost peaceable. It all worked out, one way or another.

Roxas soaked for several minutes longer, hair hanging down, plastered to the sides of his face and neck, the surface rippling then growing still. He propped his elbows on the edges of the tub, placed his fingertips against the sides of his head and massaged slowly, just to feel the comforting sensation, trying to ease away that pain that throbbed there. He opened his eyes a crack, glancing around for his clothes, saw them folded on the floor out of splash-range. Roxas smiled, dragged himself out of the bath, water cascading from his skin as his feet touched the cold floor again. The warmth sat under the first layer of his skin, buzzing slightly as he dried himself. He pulled on fresh boxers, clean jeans, a t-shirt and a sweater, scrubbed his hair off to stop the drips leaking down his neck. He left the dirty stuff on the floor, after wondering for a moment where to put them and coming up blank. He figured whoever drained the tub would know what to do.

Feeling a lot fresher, Roxas headed in bare feet to the dining hall, where mostly everyone was already gathered, this morning's group division still obliterated from the night before, people from both the Committee and the techies crammed around the same table. Cid was bent over the griddle-fryer on the other side of the hall, creating sickening scents of greasy food being cooked, a hissing, sizzling sound filling the air. Faces were drawn into various states of misery and discomfort. Axel was face-down, long arms stretched across the surface, looking a lot less bright than Roxas felt. He hesitated, just watching them all for a moment. Aerith appeared at his side, smiling. "Glad to see you're still alive."

He offered a small half-smile back. "I feel better. Thanks Aerith."

She shrugged with satisfaction. "Momma Aerith knows best."

"_Roxaaaaas!" _

"Oh, God."

Demyx came hurtling across the room before anyone had a chance to stop him, arms wide, and the blond prepared for the worst. Seconds before collision, however, Zack surged from behind them and met the man halfway, crashing them together yelling, _"Demyyyx!"_

The blond squawked in surprise, cried, "Help! Zexy! I'm being abducted!" Zack laughed and whipped him in a circle.

"What, not happy to see me?"

"I don't know you!" Demyx struggled, pushing his palm against the black-haired man's face, trying to put some distance between them. "How do you know my name?!"

Zack let him down, grinning broadly. "I figure there's only one person in this room that can be described as 'chipper' after last night, and damned if that wasn't the most chipper greeting little Roxas has ever got."

"He's not little," Axel called. "He'll hurt you, he will."

Roxas smiled, scampered over to the safe harbour of the redhead's arms. Axel's eyes were warm as Roxas approached. "Morning, Roxie's Roxie."

Roxas grabbed a spare chair from an unused table and tucked it in beside him, Axel shifting along slightly to give him more room. Cloud had been slouching, glaring a little more heatedly than usual, but upon Zack's arrival, his eyes had widened, muscles stiffening. He sat up sharply, making Leon frown at the sharp motion, eyes flicking over to the new man. Zack was grinning from beside Aerith, gave a jaunty wave. "Well, if it isn't little Cloud. You going to hurt me, too?"

"…Zack?" Cloud's face went blank, shock evident, eyebrows twitching slightly together. His gaze ticked to Aerith, who smiled encouragingly. The blond swallowed, rose slowly, the others watching curiously. "What – what are you doing here?"

Zack smirked a little, rolling his eyes. "Is that any way to greet your ex-best friend, now Spiky? How about a hug, huh?"

"This guy's your ex, huh, Cloud?" Tifa eyed him beadily, Yuffie frowning slightly. They exchanged glances. Cloud laughed slightly, shaking his head, the surprise melting into disbelieving pleasure. The occupants of the table stared. Cloud looked about a hundred pounds lighter all of a sudden, a little light shining from within the clear blue eyes as he ruefully eyed the man across the room.

"No, no, he's my – ex-best friend, I guess, like he said. Zack's not gay."

"Baby, if I was, you'd be all over me in a second, though, right?" He posed for Aerith. "I mean, sexy, yes? Me? Am I man-cake?"

She covered her face, giggling incredulously, several jaws dropping at the sound of the castle's mother-figure acting like a schoolgirl. Axel scrunched up his nose a little.

"It's like watching your mom get hit on."

"And like it," Sora agreed from a little way along, similarly disturbed. Cloud glanced down at them, grinned slightly, Leon's face slackening at the expression, a hooded, dull quality entering his eyes. The blond wandered around the side of the table, approaching the pair, Zack's hands now on his hips, beaming at the man.

"How's it going, Spike?"

"Oh, you know." There was a careful timbre to his tone. "I've been keeping busy. Bits and pieces of larceny here and there," he added dryly, glancing over his shoulder. Leon ducked his head and focused on his work, ignoring the world all of a sudden.

"Oh, that's my naughty Cloud," said Zack affectionately. "Ever the klepto." He spread his arms brightly. "So how about that hug?"

"You know, for someone who's supposed to be straight, you always like to touch me an awful lot," Cloud pointed out with a crooked smile. He moved into the man's arms, returning the gesture tightly.

"Can I help it if you make me want to grab you and never let go?" Zack muttered. He frowned, eyes closing as he gripped the blond, wrapping him up fiercely, chin digging into Cloud's shoulder. Cloud's eyebrows rose slowly, but his grip was no gentler. For a long minute, they remained clamped together, fingers twisted into the material of the other's shirt. It was as if they would become one entity if they could. There was obviously a history between them, one that the man had never even hinted at in his six weeks as part of the Committee.

At last, Zack sucked a sharp breath in through his nose, eyes flashing open to find an audience staring at them. He blinked, lowered his gaze, released Cloud slowly and stepped back. Cloud swayed for a moment, almost confused, a hand rising to scratch his head. "I missed you," he said softly. Zack darted him a quick smile, expression shivering as he struggled to contain the various emotions playing across its surface.

"I know, Spike. Me too."

"So – uh, how come you guys are exes?" Axel asked, an arm draped over the back of Roxas' chair, fingers gently twisting the damp blond hair. "You still seem pretty close to me."

Zack shrugged, as Cloud lowered his head with a frown, hands going behind his back, obviously uncomfortable with the attention. "We just kind of grew apart, I guess. Geographically, anyway. It's been – " He glanced sideways, looked the blond up and down for a brief second. "It's been a while since we saw each other."

Cloud nodded in agreement with the explanation. He seemed to cast about for something to say. "So, uh – you want some food?" he mumbled at last, suddenly awkward. He darted a glance over to the others, many of them still watching the reunion. Axel looked back speculatively. "Cid's cooking."

"What, that old battle-axe is still rattling around?" He turned, amused, watched for a moment as the man stacked bacon onto a large plate on the counter. He nodded. "I could eat." He grinned around at them all. "I'm feeling kind of like the odd one out, though. I want to be hung-over, just to fit in better."

"Yeah, we're really fucking enviable," Riku muttered caustically, burying his head into Sora's stomach unhappily.

"Riku's not great at the day-after stuff," Sora apologised, stroking the teen's long hair soothingly. Zack laughed, shook his head, grabbed a chair and swung it around beside Roxas.

"What about you, kid? You're looking healthier than you did when I was jumping on you," he observed. Axel's ears pricked. He leaned past the blond, a brow arched.

"Say again? You were _jumping _on him?"

"Only to wake him up," came the happy answer. Axel frowned, puzzled.

"You're like a brunet Demyx. You're way too happy. But Demyx is half-witted – what's you're excuse?"

"Hey!" Demyx scowled, cuddling closer to Zexion. "I am _not _half-witted. I'm smarter than you!"

"Dem," he sighed patiently, "your weapon of choice is an instrument that you lined with reinforced steel so you can play during shifts."

"And that makes me _clever," _he insisted. "It was hard making it so the neck wouldn't snap the second it hit something. Not to mention keeping the strings tuned even after heavy impact!"

"And I'm sure your victims appreciate that. You can serenade them as they bleed."

Zack wore an entertained smile. "You guys take this pretty seriously, don't you?" His eyes glanced around, taking in the room. "You all protect this place?"

"We protect the Twilight Town core," Zexion corrected. "Zanarkand can be vicious in their efforts to take it."

"Then there's DiZ's safety to think of," Axel reminded. "He's lucky he doesn't wake up with his throat slit half the time."

Zack's interest was aroused. "Exactly how often do they make attempts? On either?"

"Often enough," Zexion answered shortly. The man grew thoughtful.

"Okay, so, why hasn't this been addressed at the peace meetings? It's not exactly a minor infringement, and Hollow Bastion's neutrality is supposed to be observed properly these days…"

"You sound like a soldier," Leon said quietly, looking up from under his brow. Zack shrugged.

"I _am_ a soldier. Zanarkand Corps."

Eyes widened en masse, the rustling and shifting and muttering between one person to the next all stilling as those words entered the air. Everyone stared. Riku lifted slowly from Sora's stomach, blinking.

"You're what?"

Zack flipped down his collar, revealing the badge of his rank. "Hello, Hollow Bastion," he said evenly. "We going to be conducting ourselves according to the rules, or is this going to become some kind of brawl where you all try to make up for years of destruction and oppression by beating the crap out of a single, blameless soldier?"

"_Blameless?" _Yuffie snarled, on her feet and bristling. Axel grabbed Roxas, dragged him from his chair beside the man and onto his lap, arms protectively around him. The blond was startled, struggled automatically.

"What – what're you doing? Let me go!"

"What the hell are you after?" the redhead demanded flatly. Zack crossed an ankle over his knee, leaning back comfortably.

"I'm here to see Cloud, and to a lesser extent, Aerith." He winked over at the woman, who sat pale on the other side of the table. "She's an added bonus."

Cloud, in the chair beside Leon, had his hands clenched in his lap. Leon gave him a long look, asked without glancing away, "What exactly did you want with Cloud?"

"Am I supposed to want something in particular from an old friend?" Zack responded smoothly. "Why can't this just be a social visit?"

"Because the last time you people made a 'social visit' as you call it," Riku growled, "one man was gutted, and Demyx was hospitalised for a week."

The man's blue eyes found the blond, who had sunk back, features blank and hard. "I'm not from the area, though," Zack pointed out calmly. "I'm not one of the ones who've made the attempts on the core or DiZ."

"All it would take," Yuffie spat, "is for you to be reassigned, and you'd be one of them."

"I'm pretty sure that whoever is sending them here in the first place is operating highly illegally," the man sighed. "Look, I'm really not here for any terrible purpose. If you want, I can go, but I'll be disappointed."

Yuffie turned to Cloud. "What do you have to say about any of this?" she demanded. "How come you and Aerith are friends with a Zanarkand soldier?"

"Cid's a soldier," Cloud muttered. "He was a pilot in the war, remember?"

"Cid quit," she replied sharply. "The second peace-time rolled around, he left that sinky ship and started making right decisions for once. You're ex-bestie here, Cloud, is _still _a soldier, even after everything Zanarkand did to us during the war!"

"Hollow Bastion was a target of spite," Zack agreed. "I don't advocate that. I'm part of a peacekeeping group dedicated to keeping things stable."

"We've got those, too, you know," Zexion said sharply. "They're the very ones that keep attacking us."

"Which means it's a good thing I'm here," he replied lightly. "If you want, I can take notes and talk to the locals."

There was a collective snort. Even Cloud looked dubious. "Look, Zack, that's a nice thought, but… Yeah. No, it won't do any good. I haven't exactly been here long, but even I know what they're like… And – and Zanarkand's done it pretty deliberately, posting the more corrupt soldiers around this area… Hollow Bastion's still neutral, remember? And they don't like it any better in peacetime than they did before." He took a deep breath, lowered his eyes to his hands. "Guys, really – Zack's okay. He's not going to do anything wrong. He's – here to see me and Aerith. We knew each other before the war. I – I know, well… Like I said, I haven't been here long, but I'd – appreciate it – if you'd just let this go. Zack's a good person."

A brief silence ensued. Axel's hands tightened on Roxas. The blond lifted an eyebrow, met his green gaze, and shrugged. "I know I don't have a lot of knowledge yet about it all… but I'm willing to accept him," he said to the group. "He's a nice enough guy."

Axel shook his head. "Roxas, you don't – "

"I don't know the war, I know," he interrupted impatiently. He pulled the redhead's arms away and returned to his own seat. "But I'm not bad at people." He fixed Axel with a hard look. "You think Aerith or Cloud would let him stay if they didn't trust him?"

Axel was uncertain, wanted to disagree further, but couldn't bring himself to find fault in Roxas' reasoning. He wavered, glanced over at Demyx, whose eyes had narrowed. "Dem?"

Zack sat patiently, endured the scrutiny that was taking place. At last, the blond instrumentalist shook his head, frustrated. "I've got to go with Roxas on this one." He frowned at Aerith. "What do you say?"

She smiled a little, a worried expression. "I trust Zack. He's honourable. None of you need to be concerned that he's here – but, like him, I understand if you want him to leave."

Leon sighed, clicked his pen and set it down on the tabletop as Cid approached with hang-over cure food. "This would be a lot easier if I didn't feel like my brain was trying to escape through my ears," he muttered.

Cid glanced around curiously, setting the plates down. "What's with all the grim faces?"

"Cloud's friend is a Zanarkand soldier," Yuffie said quickly, before anyone could try to formulate a more delicate reply. Cid's hands paused. He looked slowly down at the plates, as if contemplating throwing the burning contents into the man's face. At last, after a lengthy hesitation, he simply let them go, stepped back, and folded his arms. "Okay," he said calmly, "how about someone a little less prone to hysteria tries telling me that again."

Leon pinched the bridge of his nose. "No," he said tiredly, "Yuffie's got it right." His face assumed a controlled expression. "It's Cloud's call," he decided, drawing the attention of the table. He twisted his head to the blond, mouth pursed. "You're part of this team. We trust you. It's up to you. We'll go with that decision – all of us," he added with a firm glance in Yuffie's direction. Cloud was momentarily caught off-guard. He gaped at the brunet, who tolerantly waited for him to recover and give his verdict. A long minute passed. Leon's eyebrows twitched up slightly. Cloud blinked, Zack looking on with interest.

"I – " Cloud's throat was dry. He cleared it, nodded firmly. "Zack's not here to hurt us."

Leon tipped his head in acceptance. "Fine, then." He waved away the plate set near him. "I'm not hungry." He continued with his work, blocking out the rest of the hall almost instantly. There was an awkward silence. Zack smiled, sniffed the air.

"Now I _really _wish I was hung-over," he said appreciatively. "There is _nothing _like greasy food when you're nursing alcohol poisoning." He gained some apprehensive glances. He looked over at Cid hopefully, gesturing to the spread and asking, "May I?"

Cid eyed him, nodded. "Knock yourself out," he grunted testily, before stomping back to get the rest. Zack did as bidden, piled a smaller plate high, and, for a while, the sound of cutlery clanked and clicked as he ate. Roxas was next to start, not so much out of hunger but a show of solidarity for Aerith, who had looked steadily more distressed the longer the argument stretched. She herself didn't eat anything, but she recognised the gesture, and some of the tension smoothed from her face as she smiled at him. Doubtfully, Axel followed suit. He kept darting uncertain looks at Roxas as he ate. Generally, breakfast was a quiet affair.

When they finished, Demyx and Zexion stood, hands joined, the sedate, slate-haired man gesturing for Roxas to hurry up and follow. Glad to abandon the meal, he quickly pushed back from the table. He was stopped by Axel snaring the side of his sweater, tugging gently. He looked down, eyebrows rising. "What's up?" he asked quietly. Axel studied him.

"I'm on shift for most of today." He glanced over to the blond's instructors. "Get them to bring you for a viewing, okay? I want to be there."

"A viewing?" Roxas frowned.

"Just ask." He pulled the teen down, pressed a kiss to his lips. Roxas blinked, blushed at the onlookers, but responded, touching Axel's mouth quickly with his tongue. The long fingers tightened momentarily on his shirt, then forcibly released. Axel smiled lazily, hand trailing down and away. "See you soon," he murmured, turning back to his food.

Roxas trotted over to where Demyx and Zexion waited, joined them with a nervous smile. Demyx flung an arm around his shoulders, his other going around his boyfriend's. "Wow, Roxas, this is only your second lesson!" He shook his head. "It feels like forever since yesterday."

Roxas blinked, nodded. "Yeah… I know what you mean. A lot's happened."

Zexion glanced at him curiously. "Did Axel take you to see your parents last night?"

Demyx gasped, smacked the back of the man's head. "If I'd asked that, you would've so told me off!" he complained. "You would've said I was being nosy again. And insensitive! Exactly what are you going to do if Roxas says no?"

Roxas laughed, patted Demyx's back. "No, it's okay, Dem – he did take me to see them." He shrugged. "Well, their grave, anyway." He took a breath, eyes turning straight ahead. "It was a good thing. I'm glad he did."

Zexion nodded, closing his eyes briefly. "He's been growing restless the last few days, knowing there's so much to tell you. I thought he looked particularly pleased last night." A small smile lit his mouth. "And it's good to hear that you were so eager to defend him from the soldiers."

Demyx nodded firmly, pointing his finger almost into Roxas' eye for emphasis. "Totally. You, my dear Axel's Roxie, have cultivated this big place in my heart for the rest of our natural lives." He beamed. "I always knew he was onto a good thing with you."

Roxas squirmed a little, embarrassed but pleased. "Sure, Demyx, thanks."

Zexion moved on to the business side of things, saving the teen from further discomfiture. "Since your first patrol shift is tonight, Dem's going to show you some basic moves with your keyblades today, and we'll walk you around the general area of where to go."

"Uh, moves with keyblades?" Roxas echoed nervously. He became suddenly aware again of the slices on his flesh. They started stinging, his nerve endings reminded of their existence. Demyx, however, tickled his neck reassuringly.

"Fear not, little spiky-hair, we're not gonna fight to teach you this time. _I," _he added, darting a burning look at his lover, "actually know what I'm _doing." _

"Yes, Dem, of course you do," replied Zexion mildly, making the other glare. Roxas watched them for a moment in silence.

"Dem – why'd you end up in hospital for a week?"

The blond hesitated. "Well, I just got hurt, is all. It was a rough raid."

"They broke Demyx's left leg," Zexion said softly. "It was a bad one; the bone is meant to grow back stronger, but we all think Dem's was weakened a little. He still gets pains."

"His… left leg?" Memories stirred in the back of his mind, an odd sensation of events repeating themselves.

"I'm pretty okay now, though," the blond said defensively. "I mean, I can hop and everything. I can skip!"

"Please don't show us how," Zexion cut in, roughly three seconds before Demyx was preparing to surge forward with them dragging along. He slumped slightly, a sulky expression in place.

"So… no one's met that Zack guy before?" Roxas asked. Both men shook their heads.

"I wonder how Cloud knows him," Demyx mused. Zexion shrugged.

"Judging from his behaviour, I'd say he was probably a soldier, too."

Demyx disagreed blithely. "Oh, no, he hates Zanarkand. He had a run-in with the soldiers, I think, because he always covers up a lot when he goes into town, so none of them see him." He shot the man a strange look. "Besides, wouldn't he have told us? He doesn't say anything about his life, like, ever. Or, maybe he does to the Committee, but none of them tells _us _anything."

"I don't know," Roxas murmured. "He seems like the kind to play things pretty close to the chest. That's just what I've picked up on, anyway."

"Well, I'm sure that his friend will tell us," Demyx said brightly. "I mean, he might be Zanarkand, but he actually seemed okay. He doesn't even wear a uniform or anything."

"I'd still be extra cautious tonight," Zexion warned. "It's best to not trust. We don't know him, even if Cloud does."

"He seems nice, though," Roxas argued. They drew to a halt outside of Axel's room.

"Nice doesn't equal trustworthy, Roxas, not by a long shot," the man responded. "Get your keyblades."

Roxas entered the room, found the linen freshly changed on the bed, the smell of smoke lingering only slightly. He grabbed the keys from the corner where he had thrown them the previous morning, feeling their weight with growing familiarity. As he joined the two back in the hall, he asked, "Do I get to see your sitar sometime, Dem?"

Demyx grinned maniacally. "Ask, and ye shall receive, young spiky-hair! I can grab it in two seconds flat!" The blond glanced to Zexion for permission, the man nodding assent, and with a whoop, he tore off down the hallway.

"You know," said Zexion blandly into the momentary quiet, "you've just doomed yourself to a hang-over filled with loud music and Demyx warbling in the background of conversations."

"Oh." Roxas deflated. "I just… wanted to see how he could reinforce it to be so strong…"

Zexion smiled faintly. They started along again. "He certainly won't be able to cut you with it, but I'd advise you watch your head once he starts swinging."

"Zexion, what's a viewing?"

The man paused, eyebrows rising. "Did Axel mention it?"

Roxas nodded, hands burrowing into his pockets as they walked. "He said he wants to be there when we do it. He's working today, doing – whatever it is he does – and he wants me to ask for a viewing."

"Hm." Zexion ran this through his mind, shrugged. "I see no reason why not. We can go straight there after the walkthrough. You'll be seeing Twilight Town from the main monitor."

Roxas blinked. "You mean like… like Axel used to watch me?"

He nodded. "That's correct. You can see any part of Twilight Town from the main lab. You could… check on your friends."

A slow smile broke over the blond's face. "Really? That's… that's great."

Zexion studied him. "You want to pull them out, eventually?"

"Well, yeah, of course," Roxas replied with a grin. "Then we can be together again, but – but they'll be in the _real _world."

Zexion sucked in a breath through his nose, looking contemplative. "Just remember," he said softly, "that they have to _want _it. Don't be like Axel. I know that things worked out for him, but so much of that was blind luck – can you imagine, even for a moment, the kind of life he'd have ended up leading if you had never wanted to leave?" There was a silence between them, broken only by their footsteps, Zexion's eyes never leaving Roxas' face. "I'm not saying don't want it, but I'll give you the same warning I had, when I first got out, when I first viewed the town – there's a lot of people that don't need enlightening. There's a lot of people you have to let go of, and just keep as memories. Your parents are just the first. Your friends don't know you anymore. And as much as you might want to remedy that – there's a good chance they never will." His gaze was intent. "Don't pull them out just to prove to yourself that you existed in there, Roxas."

The blond was bewildered. "I – I just want them to be happy."

Zexion eyed him for a moment, then nodded. "If that's what you want, then that's fine. Just – don't _plan _for it, Roxas. You'll spend your entire life waiting for them to make things right. Find your own way here first, then figure out whether or not they need saving."

Roxas crossed his arms over his chest, feeling disconcerted, faintly defensive. What kind of selfishness was he being accused of? Or – was it just a warning against the _rise _of the selfishness? He had to admit, the thought of _never _having the others out here… it hurt a bit. It was a stab. He wanted to show them the truth of it all. But… if they were happy…?

They seemed happy where they were. If lies made you happy, why shouldn't you remain within them? If the lies don't hurt anyone…

All he ever had to do to keep Axel happy was tell the truth. And Axel had, in return, _shown _him the truth. And – this was what Roxas had wanted. He felt a hollow jerk at the thought of never seeing his friends in this reality, never showing them that there was a world to be explored. He could understand why Axel wanted to be present for what was coming.

All of a sudden, his previous good mood was being swept away, leaving him feeling vaguely chilled, cold under the skin. He grimaced a little, hearing the sounds of Demyx returning, a strumming growing louder, voice raised in tune. Zexion touched his shoulder briefly, frowning. Roxas raised his eyes. "I know how you're feeling. But – just wait until Axel's with you before making any decisions. Okay?"

Roxas stared blankly. "Okay."

"Accidents have been made," the man persisted, "when people have felt lonely. Wait until he's holding you. Keep what you feel for him in your heart when you watch them. Don't make a mistake, Roxas."

The blond drew back slightly. "I wasn't planning to," he hedged, eyes narrowing slightly. Zexion waited a beat before nodding.

"Alright, then."

Demyx appeared, toting his long blue instrument merrily, hands crawling up and down the neck as his fingers strummed. "Roxie! Check it out! I can multitask!"

"Multitask?"

The man paused, grabbed the sitar by the neck and slammed it into the wall, making the teen yelp and jump back. Demyx waved the instrument happily back and forth. "It's totally cool! I can play, and I can crack skulls! I can't wait til we're patrolling tonight! Maybe there'll be a raid, and I can show you what I'm _really _capable of!"

Roxas blinked rapidly. "Uh, great, Dem." He clutched the keyblades a little tighter, nodding as the other blond displayed the unchanged tuning of the strings. "That's… great."

They continued on, accompanied by a constant musical monologue.


	22. Chapter 22

**A/N: **Lalala, insanity abounds. I got it done, but I got stuck on the _last goddamn page. _Very annoying. I have absolutely nothing to say, since I'm mute with shock that my brain is even still functioning. By all rights, I shouldn't even be alive right now. I should be over _there, _twitching on the carpet, because all my automatic functions failed with the loss of my brain. _Twitching!!_

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CHAPTER TWENTY-TWO

Axel was waiting impatiently, his pacing steps audible from the hall. Demyx had left after the walkthrough, taking Roxas' keyblades with him, promising with usual brightness to see the pair at the next meal. For the first time in two hours there was peace, both men sighing slightly and exchanging wry looks.

Now as they approached the main computer lab, as Axel's clomping reached his ears, Roxas' stomach clenched. The nausea clinging from the previous night had receded with the distraction of instruction, but came slithering back with the anxiety that crept abruptly up from his naval to his lungs. Excitement, nervousness, the sudden urge to throw up swept through him. He wasn't quite sure where the intensity was springing from, could only imagine that this was how badly he wanted to see his friends again. He hadn't even been aware of how much it meant to him until this moment.

Axel came into view, glancing up as they entered, looking equally tense, though Roxas couldn't figure out why. The redhead broke into a smile, some of the anxiety leaking away as his vivid feline eyes rested upon Roxas' cerulean. He paused, the break in the metronome drawing Naminé's attention away from her work, the frown of concentration melting into pleasure at the blond's appearance. "Roxas! So good to see you again." She capped the pen she had been scribbling in a notebook with, turned her chair to eagerly face them. "What brings you here?"

Axel flashed her a briefly scornful look that she didn't see. Evidently deciding to display at least one of the reasons the blond had shown up, he grabbed Roxas' arms without warning and pushed him up against the wall. It seemed he had moved beyond asking permission to put on a 'show', either because he was more secure now in Roxas' feelings for him, or the jealousy he had regarding Naminé was just too powerful to ignore.

His mouth found Roxas', hot and needy, a possessive joining. He pushed instantly past the teen's lips, claimed the tongue as an extension of his own. Roxas could only whimper, caught so completely off-guard that his mind was still trying to formulate a response to Naminé's question. The redhead's hands roamed quickly, sliding under Roxas' new shirt, stroking and plucking his clean-smelling skin. His legs weakened under the pleasurable assault, buckled, a groan rumbling deep in his throat as Axel grabbed a belt-loop to hold him up.

It wasn't long before the man's smoky lips trailed away from his mouth, leaving a shining path as they travelled down his jaw and to the soft flesh of his neck. As a hand lowered to massage his hip, a sharp sucking starting on his neck, Roxas hitched in a moaning breath. "Axel – "

A throat was cleared very loudly, drawing the attention of both men, Axel's lips swollen and pink as he unlatched from the blond's skin, Roxas' eyes wide and glazed as they snapped open. Mortification gripped him, face going from a hazy sweat to bright, self-conscious red. He caught sight of Naminé's flustered state and mentally hit himself.

"Welcome back," Zexion said dryly. Axel shot him a displeased glare.

"It was more fun where we were," he replied huskily. Into Roxas' ear, he murmured, "That's the first time I've heard you say my name that way – I can't _wait _for that to become familiar."

Roxas nearly lost his hard-won knees again, managed to gasp, "Whatever happened to the wonders of the _un_familiar?"

"Did you say 'wonders', Roxie?" the other man smirked. The blond's expression flattened, and with a surprising amount of dignity for someone still half-covered with saliva, he shoved Axel away. He took a deep breath, straightened his clothing, and stepped away from the wall. He fixed his gaze on the pink Naminé and determinedly said, "I've come to see Twilight Town." He faltered. "From the screen." He glanced to where Axel leaned smugly against the wall. "Right?" The redhead inclined his head in confirmation.

"Oh," said Naminé, not sure where to put her eyes. "Well – good luck with that." She forced a smile, gathering her things, standing and holding them against her chest. "I'll let you three get on with that – my shift ends now anyway."

"Bye, Nam," Axel said happily, saluting with two fingers. She all but scurried from the room, taking the final vestiges of Roxas' lust with her, leaving a heavy pooling of shame in its place. Axel observed the change in his expression, frowned. "Forget it, Roxie. She's just embarrassed."

"Oh, and we shouldn't be?" the blond muttered. Axel lifted his chin, arms folding over his chest.

"For what? We're allowed to be happy to see each other."

Roxas snorted. "You're an ass. I _know _what that was. Next time, kiss me because you _want _to, not to prove a – "

Axel covered the distance between them in two long strides, seized the blond by the shoulders and kissed him a second time, hard and brief. As Roxas blinked and struggled once again to catch up with the turn of events, he drew back. "Roxas," said the redhead seriously, "there's never a moment I _don't _want to kiss you. And I can't guarantee it won't happen again, because something about seeing the two of you together in the same room freaks me out."

Roxas caught himself, glared. "I don't _want _her, Axel. She's just a friend – hell, she's hardly even that. I haven't spent enough time in my whole _life _to get to know her."

Axel pouted sulkily, Zexion raising his eyes to the ceiling. "Now that this matter has been sorted, Naminé having run off, and Axel successfully having almost got his new boyfriend off in the room he's been in only twice since he was five years old, how about we actually achieve what we came here to do?"

Roxas flinched, nodded, Axel sighing and repeating the motion. "I'll be the one to do it," the redhead offered, shooting one last resentful look at the slate-haired man, promptly ignored. He went over to the main seat of control, gesturing Roxas to follow. The blond glanced at Zexion, received a nod and a wave of the hand. Roxas went to where Axel stood, and was sat into the large chair, the man's hands squeezing his shoulders gently.

"Okay, Roxie, now whatever happens, just remember that you're here now, okay? Twilight Town is just a program."

Roxas shot him a weird look. "I think I'm pretty aware of that now, Axel. I'm not going to try and crawl through the screen."

"Don't laugh," said Zexion quietly from behind. "It's been attempted."

Roxas stared, first at the shorter man, then the taller. "…What, really?"

Axel's hand tightened on him. "Just remember where you are, Rox."

Faintly concerned, Roxas hesitated, nodded. His fingers clutched the arms of his chair. Axel started typing at the keyboard, the screen shifting from the unintelligible information Naminé had been copying down, a series of boxes popping up and vanishing as he worked. Roxas' brows drew together, his anticipation at seeing his old friends dulling under the worry instilled by Axel's warning. Why on earth would someone try to crawl through the screen? First, it was a _screen – _second… hadn't they wanted to leave in the first place?

"Okay," said Axel, too soon for Roxas' liking. The green eyes found him, brows raised slightly, a small smile in place. "You ready to see everyone again? I located your friends. They're at school."

Roxas laughed, an abrupt sound. _"There's _a reason to leave I know Hayner would jump at. Dangle it in front of his nose, he'd be in Hollow Bastion in two seconds flat."

Axel echoed the noise hollowly. "You ready?"

"Uh…" Roxas glanced up nervously, gained a reassuring smile in return. "Sure."

The last thing he was aware of was Zexion moving up alongside him, hand settling on his other shoulder. Axel said, "Remember where you are, Roxie."

Roxas took a deep breath, and was gone.

-------

The sun blazed overhead, heating Roxas' hair, sending the warmth uncomfortably down into his face, the back of his neck. He fidgeted uncomfortably, sweat springing instantly across his top lip, hot prickles swarming back and forth along his shoulders, forehead burning. He shifted in his seat, t-shirt clinging to his skin. He tugged at the collar, shoes digging into the sand, drawing a deep breath and trying to dispel the strange tightness in his throat. His eyebrows drew together, he bent over, elbows on knees as he tucked his face between them and struggled to breathe. "I don't feel so good," he muttered.

His mother touched him, stroked his back lightly. "It's alright, Roxas. Things will get better. Just don't go anywhere, okay?"

He swallowed, fought the roiling in his gut. A drop of sweat blazed down the length of his nose, quivered at the tip, fell away and vanished into the dirt. His eyes slipped shut. "Mom, I – I really feel bad." His voice trembled, sick shivers gripping his muscles. "What's happening to me?"

Her thumb circled on his shoulder-blade. "Look, dear, the ghosts are back."

His fingers found his hair, through a haze he glanced up, saw the children galloping through the playground, sending up sprays of sand, giggling wildly. The redhead was tall and wiry, the blond short and chubby, both voices raised in delight as they cavorted. He forced a smile. "Cute."

"You won't leave me, will you?" the woman in white asked, her skirt fluttering as she crossed her legs elegantly. "I need you to stay with me for a while. You make me feel better."

Roxas frowned, wiped his face agitatedly, fingers sliding along a waterfall of sweat. The world swayed, buzzed out of focus, the blond going both insanely hot and terribly cold. His skin was white, grey, his eyes sunken in their sockets. His hands shook as he pulled them away, dripping. "M-mom," he said jerkily. "Mom, I don't feel well."

She sighed, smiled at him. "I know. But I promise it will get better. Just don't leave me, Roxas."

"I – I think I should go to bed," he muttered. Her grip tightened.

"No, sweetheart. Mother will make it better." She wrapped a hand over his shoulder, tugged him to lie down on the bench, his head in her lap. Blearily, he watched the children, the ghosts. Her fingers threaded through his damp hair.

"Where did your ghost go?" he whispered dizzily. She laughed lightly.

"She's gone. She doesn't need to be around the children when I'm here. I watch them just fine."

His hand came up, gripped her knee as he pulled himself into a ball. His thumb found his mouth, nestling behind his teeth in a comforting gesture, just as the young blond spirit sat on the ground, dust in his eyes, and did the same. "I feel sleepy, mom," he said softly, lisping slightly around the obstruction. She bent over him, resting her cheek against his head, a hand gently trailing up and down his bare arm.

"It's the sunshine," she said quietly. "It makes you tired. It makes you want to leave."

He shook his head minutely. "I don't want to leave…"

"Good boy. You'll stay with me, won't you?"

The red haired child approached the little boy, who whimpered and rubbed at his eyes. "What about… Axel? Where is he?" Roxas asked breathlessly, eyes slipping shut, tongue thick.

"He's right here, sweetheart. He's so close."

Roxas was silent for a while, drifting, the ill feeling fading little by little. "Do you like him, mom? Do you like Axel?"

She smiled fondly, kissed his temple gently. "Of course, darling. You chose him, didn't you? Mother loves you. She loves your love. He is a good boy, just like you." She sighed, turning her gaze to the children. "Still, bones must be broken." She smoothed a finger down his wet cheek. "Will you break bones for mother?"

-------

Roxas woke up in Axel's arms, a bouncing motion passing through his body, a sensation of speed. Lights were flashing everywhere. He frowned, eyes opening, voice rasping, pushing at his chest as he said, "Axel? What?" He turned his head, looked up as Axel's chin dropped, wide eyes finding him, tears streaked down the fair cheeks, shining against the tattoos, skin turning red and then white and then red again under the hysterical overhead strobing.

"It's okay, Roxie, we're getting you to the hospital."

Roxas spasmed. "No! I'm fine! Don't take me to hospital!"

Axel nearly dropped him at the ferocity of the motion, grip slipping, fingers tightening, muscles pulling painfully in his triceps as he struggled to keep holding on. "Roxas!" Roxas wormed out of his grasp, feet swinging to the ground, legs taking his weight momentarily before crumpling. He went down with a cry, nails dragging at the wall. Axel bent beside him, panicked, drew him up to sitting. "It's okay – please, Roxas, let me get you out of here. We need to get you help."

"No," the blond muttered, pushing his hands away. "I'm fine now, Axel." He rested against the wall, taking hold of his head.

"Roxas – how can you say that you're fine?" the redhead asked fiercely. "You don't even know what happened!"

"So what happened?" he mumbled, rubbing at his eyes. They felt gritty. Axel grabbed a handful of his hair, jerked his face up so they were eye-to-eye.

"You flipped – out – Roxas." Axel was angry, determined to win this. "You went crazy back there. You tried to destroy the whole control room! The entire castle has been set off into emergency mode – can't you hear the sirens?"

Roxas cocked his head to the side, listening, glancing around. They were near the castle entrance. Yes, somewhere in the distance, a howl was clamouring. "You tried to kill Twilight Town, Roxas." Axel's expression was perfectly serious, grim, eyes desperate. "You cracked the control casing with a chair."

Roxas blinked, frowned. "No, I didn't."

Axel laughed anxiously. "Roxas, you did. Fuck. Come on." He gathered the blond up. "You look so sick…"

"I'm _fine," _he argued, forcing Axel away, scrunching against the wall with a scowl. "I don't need to go to hospital, Axel. I'm okay now. I don't – I don't – " He trailed off, a lost expression creeping across his face. "I – tried to kill Twilight Town? I – almost broke it?"

Axel laughed again, a frantic noise, knees touching the ground. "You don't just _break _Twilight Town, but – you had a damn good go." He closed his eyes, arms dropping to his sides. "You don't remember?"

Roxas shook his head hesitantly. "I – I don't remember _anything. _I – we were in there, and you were telling me to remember where I was… Zexion grabbed my shoulder, and then…" His eyebrows knitted worriedly. "I woke up here."

Axel drew in a deep breath, held it for a long moment, fingers curling into fists. "Okay. Okay, it was – it was just a bad reaction, then. A – a bad reaction to the program." He let out a sharp bark. "You were fucking _insane." _He looked sick. "Rox, you've got to let me get you somewhere to get checked out. That wasn't normal." Roxas shook his head sharply, drawing back again. Frustration swept across Axel's face, followed quickly by weary concern. "Come see Aerith, then. Please. Everyone's working to fix the damage you did, neither of us needs to be anywhere. Please – let me make sure you're okay."

The blond hesitated, nodded slowly. Relieved, Axel pulled him up. "You okay? Can you walk?"

"I – I'm fine," Roxas said, confused. He took a couple of experimental steps. "I just – I feel weak…" He shook his head. "I feel like… I should be sicker."

Axel helped to hold him up, ignoring when the blond tried to tug free, and they walked back, deeper into the castle. "She'll be in the greenhouse," he muttered, glancing around as they passed the dining hall. The corridors were deserted, and after several minutes, the alarms, growing louder with every step, cut off, the lights returning to normal. Axel relaxed minutely, breathing out a sigh. "Thank Christ. I hate that fucking noise."

"Axel?" Roxas' voice was faint. "What happened to me? Why did I go crazy?"

Axel hugged him close. "It wasn't your fault," he said firmly. "This was _not _your fault. You had a bad reaction to your remaining programming."

"Re-remaining programming?"

"Shush. Just – let's get you checked out first. You need to rest. That was – intense for everyone." He steered Roxas through the halls, past the sparring garden, into a second courtyard that had somehow been converted into a hothouse, potted plants lining every surface, every long bench, flowers spilling out from every corner, vegetables lining an entire wall. Aerith's expression was tight. She was over by a group of large-headed flowers, a man with feathered pink hair beside her, the pair of them studying the petals with forced concentration. Zack paced nearby, scowling at the surrounding foliage.

As Axel entered, he called, "Aerith!"

Her head shot up, hurrying quickly to them, Zack by her side. Her eyes fell instantly upon Roxas. "Oh, no, what now?" she blurted, dismayed. She took the boy's face between her gloved, soiled hands, lifted it to get a good look at him, turning him from side to side, obviously in search of new injury. "What happened? Why can't you walk by yourself?"

"I – I can," Roxas said, tugging away. Axel released him, let him show her, the stagger in the teen's step obvious.

"He was going in for a viewing," the redhead related uneasily. "And he went nuts and tried to destroy the system."

"A very bad reaction, then," Aerith frowned. She stripped off her gloves, passed them to Zack. She placed her delicate fingers back upon his skin, brushing away the grains of dirt clinging, pulled down the skin under his eyes, peering at the whites, inspecting the dilation of his pupils. Her fingertips were light as they felt the soft skin of his temples, moved to the underside of his jaw, nails pressing into his skin as she took his pulse. She stepped back, clicked her fingers sharply in front of his nose, making him blink. She clapped once, the sound cracking in the vast room. "Roxas, you're part of the programming of the Twilight network," she told him, features hard as she pulled up his hands, held them out, studied their trembling. "What you're doing right now is having an adverse reaction to the remaining organic connection to it. All members of the town contribute towards the overall encoding. Before exiting, you're put through a conditioning process – the wonders – that separate you piece by piece from the mainframe. That way, when you leave, you are free from its influence, are incapable of being affected by changes made to the program." She let his hands go, opened his mouth, scraping a nail down his tongue, making it jump. "During the first viewing, many Twilight Children feel the pull of the program, usually feel a strong need to return. After all," she frowned, "you spent your almost whole life with it controlling you. However…" She released him, stepped back again, hands on hips as she gave him an all-over look. "You obviously responded very negatively to the reminder…" Her eyes found Axel. "He tried to _destroy _it?" She was puzzled.

Axel nodded unhappily. "Grabbed up the unbolted chair and started smashing everything in sight. He got – " He stopped sharply, lips pressing shut. Roxas turned his head, suspicious of the abrupt cessation.

"What? What'd I get?" When Axel bowed his head, he got a sudden chill of premonition, asked, "…Zexion?"

Axel sighed. "I think you broke his arm."

Aerith gasped, Roxas blanching. "I – broke his arm," he echoed slowly. "As in… _broke _it?"

Aerith said, "Roxas is going to be fine. I'm going to see Zexion."

Axel closed his eyes. "Okay. He's – still in the main lab. He's helping to fix things."

Aerith's expression turned stormy. "Well," she bit off, "that won't last much longer. I'll have him in his room in ten minutes." She turned to Zack. "You have experience setting broken limbs, don't you? You're coming with me." She grabbed his hand and exited the room grimly. The pink-haired man by the flowers shrugged.

"I'll just… wait here I guess." He smiled at the pair. "I'm from the city. I'm here to help Aerith with her cultivation."

"Good for you, buddy," Axel muttered. Roxas was nearly in tears, leaning against the nearest wooden bench.

"I broke his arm."

Axel ran a hand through his vivid spikes. "Rox," he said softly, "how about we get you to bed? You could probably do with it. Give you time to recover."

He met the redhead's gaze desperately. "I didn't know I was doing it. I wasn't – I wasn't even _there. _How was my body moving without me? Is it going to happen _again?"_

Axel hooked an arm around him, pressed Roxas' face into his chest and got them walking, leaving the pink-haired man to talk to the flowers. "It won't happen again," he said softly. "It's just the first time that's the problem. The last of the programming burns itself out trying to pull you back in." He smiled faintly. "You're the first person who didn't want to instantly return. You didn't try to get back – you fought it, Rox. You tried to kill it to keep from going back. That – that's gotta be good, right?" He kissed the boy's face. "That means you want to stay, don't you think?"

"Of course I want to stay," Roxas said feebly. "But – I did so much damage. That's _not _good. I hurt someone! I could have totally wrecked Twilight Town!"

"Aw, we're all tougher than that, Rox," Axel reassured, ruffling his hair gently. "Especially the damn computer. Why do you think we store it in different parts of the castle? Eggs all in one basket equals bad consequences. There's backup systems, all sorts of things."

"So – what was with all the alarms then?" the blond mumbled, relaxing slightly, fingers curling into Axel's shirt.

Axel laughed nervously. "Ah, well, see, the damage you _did _do was dangerously close to the core. It's this little energy source, it powers the entire mainframe… we've got backups, but all of Twilight Town would be shut down indefinitely if the core was disturbed too badly." He smiled crookedly at Roxas' new paleness. "It's no easy feat to create and populate an entire town."

Roxas shivered, clung closer. "As long as it doesn't happen again."

Axel cuddled him sideways. "It won't. You're not at fault here, Roxie. We just didn't anticipate your reaction."

He nodded. They got back to Axel's room, the redhead opening the door to admit them, leading Roxas to the bed. He climbed on first, patted the mattress encouragingly. Roxas hesitated, eyeing it with sudden disconcertion. "Actually… do you mind if we… don't? Sleep, that is. I – I don't want to dream."

Axel's head cocked to the side. "Nightmares?"

Roxas frowned, shook his head. "I don't know. I don't remember any. I just… don't feel like it." He fidgeted a little. "Actually, I – I was wondering if we could head to the garden and – practice fighting for a while."

Axel's face slackened. "Roxas, are you out of your mind? You just went psycho and passed out, and now you want to _fight?"_

Roxas rolled his shoulders impatiently. "I've just – I've got this excess energy I need to get out."

"You're _trying _to get Aerith to kill me, aren't you?" the redhead asked sceptically. Then he leered, sprawling back lazily, spreading his legs out straight and tucking his arms behind his head. His shirt rode up, revealing a strip of white flesh. "Of course, there's a lot of different ways to get rid of unwanted energy…"

Roxas found the dirty laundry pile, picked it up in a bundle and dumped it onto the man's head, pressing them down for a smothering moment. Axel spluttered and coughed, pawing the items away from his face. Smirking, the blond grabbed up his keyblades where Demyx had left them, turned to the redhead. "So, are you ready to fight me now? It doesn't have to be rough. Just let me get some practice in for tonight."

Axel propped himself up onto his elbows, studying Roxas uncertainly. "You're still going to do your shift?"

"I see no reason why not," he replied coolly. "I was fine before I flipped out. I'm already feeling better, and you said it won't happen again – I don't need to be wrapped in cotton, Axel. I'm not weak."

The other man sighed, rolled his eyes, tipped his head back. "I _know _that, Roxas." He lifted his face again, repeated calmly, "I know. Okay. We'll practice. But…" He hesitated. "I'm _supposed _to try and hurt you. It's _supposed _to be rough."

"Later, when I'm better," Roxas promised him. "Otherwise you'll have Demyx _and _Aerith coming after you."

Axel pretended to shudder, sat up, picking a stray sock from his shoulder. "Okay, fine. But we're taking it _really _easy, then," he warned. "Whatever you think, I really don't want to tire you out after what just happened."

Roxas gave a half-hearted smile. "I'm like this walking disaster area. As long as you're still happy to have me around, though, I guess it's fine."

Axel snorted, standing. "Oh, like I'm going to dignify that with an answer." Roxas grinned a little, fingers adjusting their grip on the keyblade handles. They passed by Demyx's room to collect Axel's chakrams and continued on to the garden. The halls were still deserted, and Roxas just hoped he hadn't done too much damage to the mainframe.

They entered the garden, crossed to the short grass. Axel tossed his weapons to the ground with twin thuds and reached up to his shoulders, tugging his shirt off in a swift motion. "We're not hurting each other – remember?" Roxas reminded him tersely.

"I know," replied the redhead lightly, tossing the material to one side. "But I don't want to get it all sweaty and gross. I'll stick it back on after I shower."

Roxas glanced down at his own sweater, realised he was going to overheat. He peeled it off, ignoring the whistle from Axel. They took up their positions on the grass, more relaxed than the other day. Roxas tried to remember the moves Demyx had shown him, practiced them silently for a minute while Axel rolled his chakrams, watching. He tried not to think of Zexion's arm. He decided, for peace of mind, that if it had been _really _bad, the man wouldn't have stuck around to help fix things… and besides, Aerith was with him now. The mother-figure of them all.

-------

"_Will you break bones for mother?"_

-------

Roxas' stomach suddenly revolted. He bent, vomited all over the grass. Axel stared for a minute, then threw his chakrams down, ran to his side. "Jesus, Roxas!" he fretted. He took away the keyblades and placed them on the ground, rubbed the boy's bare back. "Aerith's going to kill me."

Roxas spat bitter saliva. "Nice to know you care," he half-snarled. Axel shook his head.

"Okay, we're definitely not fighting now." He straightened Roxas up, peered into his face, as if waiting for the problem to reveal itself in writing across the bridge of his nose. He shook his head. "You'll be lucky to patrol tonight…" He closed his eyes briefly. "I need to learn to say no to you," he muttered. "This was a bad idea. You're going straight back to bed."

"No," Roxas whined. "I don't _want _to." He grabbed Axel's wrist pleadingly. "Don't make me sleep. I don't want to sleep."

Axel frowned, steered him away from the mess on the ground, took him to the corner and sat him down on the stone bench. He crouched down in front of him, hands on his knees, studying the blond carefully. "What's up, Roxie?"

Roxas shook his head. "I – I don't know," he said softly. "I…" He wiped his mouth slowly. "I feel better now." He smiled faintly, weakly. "Must have been the hang-over."

"Okay, we're making a point of _never _telling Aerith about this," Axel said worriedly. He stood, pulled the blond up with him. "Bed, right now, you and me. You don't have to sleep, and I won't molest you too badly. We'll just – we can talk. For once, finally, we're alone, and we can just _talk, _just like you wanted."

Roxas grimaced, wrapped his arms around Axel's bare waist, resting his head against the bone shoulder. "I wish it was under better conditions." They returned to the room, right back where they'd started ten minutes previously, only this time, Roxas was feeling abruptly drained. His head ached. Axel tucked him into bed, lay on top of the covers with him, on his side, brushing the bits of hair from his face.

"I'd kiss you," he said softly, "but you'll taste gross."

Roxas nodded, smiled. "I do taste gross." He raised his eyes to the ceiling, let them hover there while Axel ran a finger along the contours of his skin, up and down his cheek, around his jaw, lazy swirls against his throat. At last, the redhead became aware of the small tears trickling down from the corners of the blue eyes, paused with concern. He thumbed one away, kissed a second, tasting salt. "It's okay. Zexion's going to be fine."

"I wasn't even _there," _Roxas whispered, lips curling down, voice thick. "Are you _sure _it won't happen again?" He turned his gaze hopefully, trustingly, to Axel's green eyes.

The man hesitated. "Well – I don't _think _it'll happen again," he offered lamely, watching Roxas' expression drop. "It never happened twice to anyone else… but then, no one else went quite the way you did."

Roxas turned his face into Axel's neck, a warm, safe harbour. His breaths drifted around the man's throat, touched the skin and curled away, smelling sour. "I…"

Axel made a humming noise of enquiry, growing drowsy after the drama, still recovering from the night before.

"I don't want to sleep anymore."

Red spikes rustled as the older man shifted his head, pressing their foreheads together, looking directly into the other's eyes. "Then we'll make you drink all the coffee in the world," he smiled.

Roxas' features were knitted with worry. "I'm scared to sleep. And I don't know why. It's – it's all over me. All through me. I don't know what's wrong with me."

Axel frowned, his knuckles rising to brush Roxas' cheek. "How long has this been happening?"

"Just – since _now," _the boy replied huskily. "I'm scared."

Axel watched him for a long minute, then nodded. "Okay, then. You just won't sleep for a while then. You've got patrol tonight, we'll schedule you for later. We'll stay up all night if we have to."

Roxas laughed slightly, helplessly. "I can't just… not sleep though."

"Well – when you do…" Axel's expression was serious, devoid of lecherous intent. "I'll be there with you. We'll fall asleep together. And if you get scared, I'll be there to help you figure out why."

"You're here _now," _the blond pointed out. Axel rolled his eyes.

"When you've slept, if you wake up scared, maybe you'll have had a nightmare and very conveniently spoken out loud. Then I can tell you what you said, you'll remember it all, and you won't need to be scared anymore. Okay?"

Roxas scowled, burrowing into his bare chest. "Can we do it, but skip that whole part you just said?" Axel was silent for a moment, causing the blond to glance up. "What?"

"You're really scared? For absolutely no reason?"

Roxas blushed a little, feeling very suddenly ridiculous. "None that I know," he mumbled. Axel pursed his lips.

"Well… okay, then. That's weird. But – we'll find a way to fix this. It can all be fixed, Roxie." He kissed the flaxen spikes. "You don't have to sleep yet."

"Good," he whispered. He settled himself, eyes wide, lashes brushing the fair skin pressed against his face. Axel was right – this could be fixed. But… Roxas really couldn't figure out what was so frightening. He didn't know _what_ to fix. Which made the repairing process a lot more difficult.

For now, though, lack of sleep was a good thing.


	23. Chapter 23

**A/N: **Wow, check me out. Efficient!Lauren. Instead of posting horribly late at night, I'm doing it horribly late in the afternoon. This means the last few pages are actually coherent! So, yes, no complaints as yet about this one. None since chapter sixteen, actually, as far as I can remember. I am satisfied :) Hope everyone else is, too. Lllllllemme know!

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CHAPTER TWENTY-THREE

An hour later, Aerith came to check on him, and Roxas was glad they hadn't stayed out practicing. Her expression was already grim enough. Axel had, by this point, long fallen asleep. He'd only lasted about thirty minutes. Apparently, lying down with your eyes open didn't equate unless there was something physically distracting from the sleepiness.

Aerith opened the door quietly, saw Roxas' eyes open and watching, and gestured to him. He hesitated, wriggled out from under the long, lanky arm, skin brushing skin. Axel grunted, grabbed a handful of the sheet, nuzzled into the pillow.

The air cold was against his bare body. Roxas tucked his hands into his armpits, nervously not meeting the woman's gaze as he joined her in the corridor. She pulled the door gently shut. "How are you?" was the first question from her mouth. He grimaced.

"_I'm _fine," he said softly. "How's Zexion?"

She touched his arm, smiling gently. "He's fine, Roxas. It was a clean break; we were able to fix him up without trouble. To be honest, he's more concerned about you than himself. He's been asking after you."

Roxas sighed, dropping his hands to his hips, resting them towards the small of his back. "I – I'm really okay. I just – " He shook his head. "I'm still trying to… accept it all. I don't remember _anything." _He glanced over his shoulder at the closed door. "Axel told me it wasn't my fault, but I mean – it's just – it's kind of… scary, that I – I _lost _myself."

Aerith was sympathetic. "I know this is disturbing, but it won't happen again, Roxas – it was violent, but the last of your programming should have burnt out now."

"_Should _have," Roxas grunted. He shrugged. "Well, nothing we can do, I guess. How's the computer doing?"

"I haven't asked," she admitted, wrinkling her nose. "It's not really my department. I just came to make sure you were doing okay."

He nodded. "Thanks, Aerith. I'm – " He closed his eyes briefly, reached up to pinch the bridge of his nose. "I'm sorry for all the trouble I'm causing. I _know _it's not my fault, but I still feel like this – gigantic pain in the ass."

She smiled, faintly exasperated. "Just be glad you're so loveable."

Roxas grinned. "I'll keep it in mind."

She patted his head. "Go back in and get some rest. You must be exhausted."

He shifted uneasily. "Yeah. I guess. I'll go – lie down some more."

"Don't roam around," she warned, fixing him with a hard look. "I want you in here until lunch is ready. If you sleep through, I'll keep something aside; you could do with the energy." She poked him. "And bring that Axel of yours, he's not eating enough with you around." She stuck her tongue out teasingly, winked. "Too busy staring at you to find his mouth."

Roxas chuckled, watched her go, pink skirt swirling with each steps, the sleeves of her denim jacket pulled over her hands. For a minute, he stood in the empty hall and stared, a tired, unseeing state. So, Zexion was okay, at least, and apparently not angry at him. That was good, if nothing else was working out. And no one had come to chew him out for being so destructive. Things were turning out decent.

Roxas heaved in a deep breath, holding it within his chest, turned and returned to the dimness of Axel's room. The redhead was stretched along the mattress, limbs messy, on his stomach without the blond to keep him propped up. An affectionate smile tugged at his mouth, coming despite the uncertainty churning in his gut. Somehow, Axel was good at making things better simply by being himself. He didn't even have to do anything but snort and snuffle against a pillow.

The smile remaining as a shadow, he avoided the bed, wary of the weariness working through his muscles. Now that he knew Zexion was going to be alright, there was a lot less tension, less guilt, relaxing him against his will. He preferred it when sleep was blocked indefinitely by his own feelings of regret and worry.

He lowered himself into the chair by the mattress, Aerith's default 'heal Roxas' location, and clasped his hands together, elbows on knees. He found a spot on the floor to frown at, and let his thoughts wander, rifling through the insane events that had brought him here, the remaining sensation of unreality. It was hard to go from one extreme to another and feel no sense of dislocation. He was starting to fit carefully into some part of the real world, but each bump in the road shook him, made him less inclined to let go. It was tough, going from knowing everything to knowing nothing. But he was trying. He would keep trying. And he would hope that sleep would never come, that no one else would need to be hurt because of him – including himself. He was ready for things to become _easy._

As he picked moodily at the cuticle of his thumb, there was a light knock at the door. Eyebrows quirking, wondering if Aerith was back, he darted a glance at the stubbornly slumbering redhead, and rose, crossing the room, easing the door open a few inches. Demyx was on the other side, sending a jolt through the blond. He flushed guiltily, cringed slightly, even though the other man was smiling.

"Hiya, Rox," he said. Roxas slipped through. He figured that if Axel was going to stay up with him later, he'd need these next few hours to catch up on the loss of the last few days. Demyx peered over his shoulder curiously, then returned his eyes to Roxas as the door clicked shut.

He smiled in a strained fashion. "Hi, Dem. I'm – I'm sorry about Zexion."

And suddenly he was being hugged. Roxas blinked, hands hovering, unsure what to do with them. He ended up patting the man weakly on the shoulder, as Demyx embraced him tightly. "Don't worry about Zexy! He's had worse, Roxie darling. We were worried about _you! _The last Zexy knew, Axel was running off with you in his arms!"

Roxas winced. "Yeah. He was… scared. But I'm okay, now, really."

Demyx drew back, beaming. "I know that! Aerith told us. She's the coolest, isn't she? She and Zack set Zexy's arm in five minutes flat." He wrinkled his nose. "Though she did get mad at him when he wouldn't stop working on the mainframe." He smiled brightly again. "She came to see us just a minute ago, said you wanted to know how things were going."

Roxas nodded slowly. "I hope I didn't do too much damage."

Demyx rolled his eyes, snorted. "Course not, Rox. It's like my sitar. Steel-reinforced!" He formed a fist, looked fierce for a moment, then grinned. "You mangled up the backup circuits, and unsettled the core a little, but nothing that can't be repaired in a couple more hours. The whole castle's crawling with people trained to do just this." He ruffled the blond's spiky hair. "So don't you worry you're pretty little Roxie skull!" Roxas made a face, pulled away from the assault. "Also!" Demyx bent, grabbed Roxas' keyblades from where they leaned against the wall. Axel's chakrams were behind them. "I found these in the garden, next to a big puddle of sick. I figured you'd want them back!"

Roxas wore a pained expression as he took the keyblades. "You didn't tell Aerith, did you?"

Demyx laughed. "I prefer you living. Your spleen is very happy where it is, it doesn't need momma Aerith's claws pulling it out just to teach you a lesson."

A… gory image. And yet, Roxas could picture it. He tucked the blades under one arm, struggling to keep them from slipping as he took the chakrams.

"Where's Axel?" the older blond wondered. Roxas tossed his head.

"Sleeping."

Demyx nodded knowingly. "He always gets tired after he's been crying. He can sleep all day after being upset."

Roxas hesitated, an eyebrow cocking. "Does he – cry often?"

Demyx shook his head. "Naw. He's cried less the last couple years. It used to be when…" He paused, looking suddenly uncertain. "Well, you know about how he… slept around a little… you don't mind though, right? I mean – you don't seem to be mad at him…"

"He cried when he slept around?" Roxas asked sharply, picking up instantly on Demyx's uneasiness. Then his expression turned flat with understanding. "He cried because it wasn't me."

Demyx looked panicked. "I didn't tell you! I totally didn't tell you! Don't tell him I told you, coz I didn't!"

Roxas shook his head abruptly. "Dem, it's okay," he said gently. "Look, just relax. I'm not even going to tell him I know. It'd only embarrass him. And I _don't _mind it all. He's not doing it any more, that's all I care about."

The blond nodded unhappily. "Okay. But seriously, he'll come after me if you say anything…"

"You're safe with me, Dem," Roxas smiled. "Thanks for the keyblades. I'll go back in, in case he wakes and finds me gone."

Demyx hesitated, grabbed his sleeve. "Roxas? Do you – love him yet?"

Roxas lowered his face, was silent for a moment. "Don't push me, Dem," he said quietly at last. "I'm getting there. I know you're just worried about Axel getting what he's always wanted, what he was so – obsessed about, but… I'm getting there, Dem. It's happening."

Obviously not exactly what the man wanted to hear, judging from his expression. Roxas wondered what kind of romantic ideas he'd formed about their union, what he'd imagined Roxas should have done. But it seemed to be enough, at least, because he nodded with a small smile.

"Okay. You kids have fun in there. No loud moaning."

Roxas rolled his eyes. "He's _asleep, _Dem."

The man's eyes flashed wickedly. "I know a way you can wake him up – "

"Or maybe I like my eyes in their sockets," Roxas muttered. "Don't make me poke them out in horror, Dem. See you later, okay?"

His final view of Demyx was the pouting face. The door closed, and he was alone again with a snoring Axel. He looked over at the man, and felt a flutter, once again smiling as if it was the first time all day he was seeing him. Dem could have as many expectations as he wanted, but whatever he'd dreamed up for his red-haired friend, Roxas doubted it could compare to the real thing. This was just – great how it was. Nothing needed to speed up, nothing needed to change.

He took the weapons into the corner of the room, sitting down on the lumpy pile of soiled clothing, a soft seat on the otherwise stone floor, and set Axel's chakrams gently against the wall, making sure they didn't scratch. He drew his keyblades across his legs, fingers running slowly along the cold metal, feeling the chips in the paint, the tiny imperfections. His fingertips came to rest on the teeth, dragging slightly to test the edge. Sora had done a good job of sharpening them, but he wondered how long it would last. They weren't made to be weapons. The teeth weren't designed to hold an edge. He imagined they would blunt quite quickly. His nails picked absently at the pitted paint, gaze slipping from the room, finding somewhere in the distance to vaguely focus. Axel snorted, rolled over.

-------

Roxas was sitting in the sand, running his fingers around in swirls, watching the patterns forming, only to slip back in on themselves like water. He was alone in the playground. There was no one about. The sun was as high as ever.

-------

He opened his eyes as Axel groaned, hips bucking up into his own, skin hot on skin, the green eyes glazed with lust and something deeper. A small half-smile hovered around the man's lips, his hair crushed and messy. "Do that again," he breathed hoarsely, fingers weaving around the back of Roxas' neck, tugging his face down. Roxas' muscles stiffened, he resisted, panic filling every screaming instinct. His breaths stopped, Axel pausing uncertainly, a shadow flitting across his face. "Rox? What's wrong?"

Lips barely moving, Roxas whispered, "Let me go."

Axel released him instantly, hands dropping open on the bed next to his head, wary confusion in place. Roxas stayed where he was for a moment, before pushing slowly up, looking down at himself. Pants still on. That was good. Axel's were, too. But he was hard under the denim, and fear pumping made it a sickening sensation. He closed his eyes, shuddered, hands shaking up to his face, running through his hair. Axel lay still, watchful, eyes narrowing slightly.

"Okay… so, what just happened?" Roxas asked quietly, voice carefully lacking in accusation.

"Uh… You jumped me, Rox. And… uh… are you okay?"

"I wasn't here, Axel. I didn't jump you."

The redhead raised an eyebrow. "You weren't here?"

"I wasn't _here!" _He angrily punched the bed beside the man's shoulder, making him flinch away. "Fucking hell, Axel, don't you know when I'm inside my own head or not?" he snarled. Axel's eyes widened.

"Roxas, what are you _talking _about? If you weren't _here, _where the hell _were_ you? I was just _sleeping, _and you were all over me. I didn't exactly take the time to ask your name and serial number, since I was pretty sure it was _you."_

"Well it wasn't!" Roxas climbed off the bed, hissing at the pressure in his groin, shifting his jeans. "Why is my body acting without me?"  
"It's like puberty all over again," Axel said dryly. Roxas whirled around, pointing a sharp finger.

"Shut up. Now. This is _far _from funny, Axel."

The man sat up, adopted a patient tone as he crossed his ankles together. "Okay, why don't you tell _me _what happened?"

"I – I was…" Roxas slumped against the wall, scraped his hands through his spikes, grabbed handfuls and held on for support. "I was sitting in the corner. Dem brought our weapons from the garden. I had the keyblades, I was looking at them, I – I was just _thinking…" _His eyes found Axel's, filled with bewilderment. "And the next thing I knew, I was on top of you. Why's this happening? It's – it's just like when I went nuts at the computer. The _exact same thing. _Only this time I tried to _rape you?"_

"Can't rape the willing, baby," Axel said neutrally. "But it certainly would be nice if you remembered it afterwards. I have to agree, I'd quite like your brain to be in on the act as well as the rest of you." He took a breath, lifted his gaze to the ceiling in thought. "So you blacked out and your body, without your mind in the way telling it to be sensible, decided I was too sexy to pass up." He raised an eyebrow. "You know, maybe this is your sexual frustration taking the driver's seat."

Roxas glared. "I'm pretty sure I said this wasn't funny," he said through gritted teeth.

"I don't know, I'm finding it kind of amusing," the redhead confessed. "I certainly don't have any complaints. It was a hell of a way to wake up. However, I mean, I guess we got lucky. Good thing you didn't decide to crack me over the head or something instead of trying to get off on me."

Roxas started pacing, still holding his hair. "Did I _say _anything?"

"Uh…" His eyes rolled up. "I tried asking what you were doing, and you told me to shut the fuck up. That's basically it."

"So I spoke to you," the blond growled. "I have no memories at _all, _but it seems my body knows how to _speak _without me."

"Maybe you were sleep-walking?" Axel theorised, trying to calm him. "You wouldn't be the first around here. I mean, it can be caused by stress, right? Tell me, Rox, has this been a stressful week for you, or what?"

Roxas snorted, came to a halt, knuckles dropping to prop against his hips. "Yes, okay, so it's been stressful. But why _now?"_

The redhead shrugged. "You reached breaking point? That little turn you had earlier set you off, maybe? I don't know. But it's not like you did anything _bad. _It's _not _like in the computer lab, Roxie, because that was your leftover biological programming. It can't have been this time, because you're nowhere near the computer."

Roxas shot him an uncertain look. "You think I was sleep-walking?"

"Believe it or not, it's kind of common in you people." Axel unfolded his legs, shifted to the edge of the bed, lowered his feet to the ground. "You know how they told you Kairi does it when she's drunk? Well, it's because she gets so tired, and things sort of take over. Maybe it happened with you just now. You were so busy being too scared to sleep, even though you must have needed it, that you passed out without even knowing, and the stress of the past couple weeks got you moving on the somnambulism train."

Roxas hesitated, hands falling to his sides, flicking back and forth uneasily. "So you don't think this is something… bad?"

"Look, Roxas." Axel leaned forward good-naturedly. "It seems like you're having nightmares. Also to do with stress, right? Nightmares can do it, too, can get you walking around. This really isn't something to be frightened of. It probably freaks you out, but it's nothing bad, I promise. You're doing fine, you're just – burnt out, I guess."

The blond took a deep breath, held it for a moment before nodding and letting it out. "I guess – that makes sense. I mean… it's not like I've been all relaxed or anything…" He frowned. "I really don't know if I'm having nightmares, though. I'm not remembering anything."

Axel stood, shrugging. "Maybe your brain's blocking them off. It could be why you're reacting so strongly by wandering around."

Roxas grimaced. "I'm… sorry for doing that to you… getting you worked up and then just about jumping across the room to get away…"

Axel laughed, walked to him, slid his arms around the teen and held him close, affectionately. "It's okay, Roxie. I sort of figured it had to be too good to be true, the way you were just crawling all over me."

Roxas scowled. "It wasn't too good to be true. It's not like I wouldn't have done anything last night, if you hadn't turned out to be such a goddamn prude."

Axel squawked, pulling back. "Prude? _Me?"_

"You heard me." He knocked his forehead into the redhead's sternum with a small, crooked smile. "I might start thinking you don't want me."

"Yeah, Roxie, my pants five minutes ago were saying otherwise."

Roxas scrunched up his eyes. "Sorry."

Axel kissed him gently. "How about we go get something to eat? You hungry?"

He nodded. "Aerith said she's save us some lunch if we missed it… I don't think I was out for more than five minutes… How long was I – you know – "

"About five minutes," Axel agreed. He sucked the lobe of Roxas' ear. "Best five minutes of my life, even if you weren't technically there."

"I'll have to remedy that," the blond replied dryly. "Can't have you wanting my body more than me."

"It's kind of a slut that way, you might have some competition," Axel warned. Roxas smirked, shoved him away.

"Put a damn shirt on." He went to his own, tugged it over his head, smoothed it down, turned and waited for Axel to do the same. The tall man came over, fully clothed, and slung an arm over his shoulder. "Let's get going. I feel like the whole _day's _passed. Sleep is so great."

"For you, maybe," Roxas grumbled. He grinned.

"_Especially _for me."

They left the room, wandered down the various hallways in the artificial light. Roxas was looking forward to feeling some sun on his face. His involuntary rest had left him feeling reluctantly fresher than before, brief though it might have been. God knew it had got his blood pumping faster.

They entered the dining hall, and for a long, disconcerting moment, Roxas couldn't figure out why everything seemed so wrong. Axel, too, hesitated, off-balance. "Roxas? Didn't you say it was, like… around lunch-time?"

Darkness clawed the windows, kept at bay by the blazing halogen lights throughout the room. The tables were mostly empty, only the stragglers of dinner remaining nursing drinks and third helpings, continuing discussions quietly. The day was over.

Roxas blinked. "Guess I was out for longer than I thought. It – it felt like only a couple minutes… really."

Axel nodded, rubbed his back soothingly. "It's okay. That just shows how deep you went. No wonder you were walking about. Like you say, you weren't even _there, _Roxie." He smiled. "When the cat's away, the mouse comes out to play."

Roxas frowned. "I'm hungry."

"Me, too. Not eating all day sucks."

They crossed to the cooking side, scraped together some leftovers, took their plates to their usual table, empty except for Larxene, who was bent over a small electronic device with a thin, delicate screwdriver. Her face was set in concentration, lips pursed as she worked. "Hey, Larx, what's happening?" Axel tugged Roxas into the seat beside him, their plates rattling against the surface, making her glance up irritably.

"My taser's being a bitch. Keeps spluttering out, then either not working or working too damn well. I nearly fried that friend of Cloud and Aerith's, and now people are pissed off with me."

Roxas gaped. "You shocked Zack with a taser? You have a _taser?"_

"No, I have a _fairy_ wand, kid," she snapped sarcastically. "They live in the bottom of the fucking garden and tell Axel to burn things."

The redhead brought out his blowtorch. "It's why I carry this everywhere," he explained to Roxas. "You never know when a fairy's going to pop out of nowhere and tell you to burn shit." He clanked it down on the table, took a forkful of food and shovelled it in. "So you got the soldier?"

She shrugged sulkily. "I only meant to shock him a little. Make him squeal like a little girl, not so much like a pig that just got stabbed with a railway spike."

"Larxene is well-versed in how different screams sound," Axel added for the blond's benefit. He turned back to the woman. "So he made a pig-spike sound?"

"And then passed out," she confirmed. "I swear, his hair was smoking. I might have charred his insides."

"I'm sure it wasn't that bad," Roxas said uncertainly, fork pausing halfway to his mouth. He glanced down at her dysfunctional weapon. "Right? I mean… that's not exactly a good thing."

Axel shrugged. "He's Zanarkand, Rox. It's really not a big deal."

The blond scowled as he ate. "He's nice," he mumbled. "And Aerith likes him. Why can't you leave him alone?"

Axel shook his head. "Let's agree to disagree," he muttered. "I think they're a bunch of fuckers, you think they're misunderstood, this conversation can only end in tears."

Roxas bit back his automatic urge to continue what was turning out to be an argument. He continued to eat in silence. After several minutes, Axel's hand found his thigh, a warm presence, displaying his lack of ire at the boy. Roxas nodded slightly, didn't push him away as he gently rubbed his knee. Larxene didn't speak again, just kept clattering away with the faulty device.

"Axel!" Both his and Roxas' heads rose at the summons, twisting in their chairs. Several tables over, Leon sat with the man from the other night, Vincent. Axel hissed out a curse, ducked his head sharply. "Come on over, Axel, we need to talk about it," Leon called.

"I'm bringing my food," the redhead pouted, grabbing up his plate as he stood. Roxas left his half-finished meal behind, appetite already sated, not interested in forcing too much into a stomach that had spent so much time rolling around in the last twenty-four hours. The pair went and joined the two men at their table, Axel clanking the enamel against the metal surface, sitting sharply, eyebrows drawn together into a scowl. "What?"

Leon fixed him with a tolerant look. "You know what. Vincent told me what you conveniently no doubt forgot to mention last night."

The long-haired man glanced over, eyes fixed on Roxas. When the blond met the amber eyes, he received a small smile. Surprised, Roxas smiled back uncertainly, huddling close to Axel. "Okay, so I maybe tried to burn them a little," Axel was saying, "doesn't mean I did anything _wrong. _They're the ones that _started _it."

"You want to give them an excuse to come up to castle?" Leon demanded shortly. "If you had burned any one of those men, they'd have had more than enough reason to make an official visit. That is the _last _thing we need, Axel. All they did was verbally provokeyou."

"They were insulting Roxas," the redhead snarled back. "They deserved to be burnt."

"And by fighting back," Vincent interjected quietly, "you ended up drawing Roxas into the fight. He got hurt, didn't he? Better to have them speak lies, than to see your lover bruised all over."

Axel fumed, Roxas squirming slightly, uncomfortable. "It was my own fault that I got hurt," the blond said. "I attacked them. I'm the one that made it physical. I didn't know – not to. I mean… I guess it's obvious, but – "

"Yes, it is," Leon cut in dully. "We don't get into fights with soldiers, Roxas, not under any condition. There is _one _battleground, and it's inside this castle. The second they enter without permission, we get to kick their asses – and I _know _they're horrible, but you really need to learn how to restrain yourself." He glared faintly at Axel. "Both of you. Although _you _should know better."

"Yeah, yeah, blah, blah, blah, does daddy have anything else to say to his useless, black-sheep son, or can I go lock myself in my room with the music up real loud now?"

"Get the fuck away," Leon dismissed, sounding bored. "You've got patrol soon. Don't be late."

"They're not going to try anything," Axel grumbled, standing, leaving his plate dirty on the table, pulling Roxas with him. "So, you want to take a shower?"

Roxas raised an eyebrow. "With you?"

The redhead grinned. "Well, not with Demyx, that's for sure."

Roxas rolled his eyes. "I think I'd like to shower alone."

"But you _can't. _They're _communal."_

"I've managed to avoid you so far," the blond pointed out. "I don't think I'm ready to be naked in front of you yet, Axel."

"So don't get naked," was the breathed reply. "I don't mind getting naked for the both of us."

Roxas shrugged quickly, fighting off the blush that threatened to sweep across his skin. "Do what you want, but I'm not going to look."

"That sounded like a challenge." Honestly, the Cheshire grin couldn't have been broader.

They returned to Axel's room, collected their clothing, Aerith having both restocked Axel's and added Roxas'. Axel hummed happily at the selection she had ordered for the blond. "The woman knows fashion," he muttered with admiration. "You're gonna be a hot Axel's Roxie."

They went down the corridor, entered the men's showers, one of the heads running, steam rolling around the ceiling. The faint smell of burnt hair filled the air. Roxas averted his eyes from Zack's body, giving the man his privacy. It's not like he was someone he'd toiled beside shirtless and dirty for several hours. Axel, on the other hand, whistled appreciatively. "Sure you're straight, soldier?" he called over the hissing. "Because that's a body I wouldn't mind dropping my Roxie off at daycare for."

Roxas gasped, punched him in the stomach. "You fucking asshole!"

Zack laughed. "Thanks, but no thanks, man. If I was going to swing that way, I'm serious, I'd go after Cloud. That I haven't after spending three years tramping mud beside him and curling up next to him in the same sleeping bag is a testament to my sexuality, if nothing else. Plus, considering how Roxas is glaring right now, I think we'd both wake up a little bit castrated if you tried it."

Axel glanced down, a grin in place. "Oh, come on, Rox, you know I was kidding."

"You really are a fucker," the blond said, displeased. "I'm showering in my boxers."

"You – " He burst into laughter. "You're going to shower in your boxers?"

"I'm not giving you a chance to make fun of my body," he muttered, dumping his clothes on the ground where it was dry, grabbing a towel from the pile by the door.

"Rox-_as, _I was _joking."_

Roxas ignored him, chose the shower furthest from the black-haired man, who finished up a minute later anyway. He turned on the water, standing sulkily under its flow, disliking the wrongness of washing with clothes on. He folded his hands against the sides of his ribcage and allowed himself to grow heavy with saturation. The silk clung to his skin uncomfortably. Axel followed him, sneering slightly at Zack's parting call. He stood, looking amused, on the edge of the tiles, towel wrapped around his waist. Roxas turned his back firmly, scowling deeply.

"Ya know," Axel said, voice raised over the noise, "you're one of the sexiest creatures I have ever had the pleasure of looking at. Can you really deny that you turn me on?" Roxas pointedly ignored, annoyed. He was short, he was undeveloped as far as muscles were concerned. He hadn't spent a life marching around killing people, he'd just played videogames and walked around Twilight Town. And eaten _ice cream. _So much ice cream! He doubted someone like Zack _dared _to break their precious diets to eat _ice cream. _Fuck, he was shapeless and loose-skinned. No wonder Axel's eyes shone when they fell on the man.

When Axel's hands touched him, he jumped, tugged away, walked over to the next shower, turned it on and used it instead. Axel followed, walking slowly, and when the touch came a second time, it suddenly occurred to the blond that the redhead was completely and utterly naked. Oh, fuck. Naked Axel, following him around the shower and touching him. Determinedly, he walked on to the next one, turned it on, the next one, Axel trailing the whole while, fingers sliding across his shoulders the moment he stopped moving.

"Running out of showers, Roxie," Axel breathed into his ear.

"Then I'll start again from the first one," the blond grated. Axel chuckled throatily.

"Or you could stop being stupid and just let me wash you. We can't take too long – got a shift in twenty minutes."

"I can wash my_self," _Roxas bit off, stalking to the next shower.

"I'm sure you can – hands as sexy as that, they can do _anything."_

"Too late." Roxas scrubbed at his hair in the brief moments he knew he had before Axel got to him again. "I belong in _daycare, _remember? So are you a paedophile now?"

"No, no." Axel's arms wrapped around Roxas' neck, his chin attempting to rest on the shorter boy's shoulder. "I just lie horribly and think I'm being funny."

"Your _lies," _Roxas grunted, tugging forward and being halted by the redhead's grip, "are awfully close to the truth."

"That's what _you _think." Axel scraped his teeth along the side of Roxas' throat, making the blond shudder.

"Mind getting the fuck off me?" he muttered.

"I don't mind getting you the fuck off," Axel offered as replacement.

"Axel, let me _go."_

"Nope." He licked the same area, tongue dragging deliberately slowly, bringing that same shiver of reaction from Roxas. The boy struggled half-heartedly.

"I'm really not happy," he said feebly. "You sent my self-esteem down, like, three pegs."

"Is there any way for me to raise it?" Axel murmured. "I mean, I'm sure I could find a way if I really _tried…"_

Roxas sighed. "Look, no, seriously, I – " He bit his lip sharply as Axel's hands slid across his wet stomach, plucking at the elastic of his clinging boxers. The man's teeth sank gently into his shoulder.

"Sh-shit! Axel! Um…" Roxas tried, he really, _really _tried to clutch the irritation, the vague stab of hurt, damn it, he tried _so hard. _But with Axel's fingers distracting him, teasing the skin along the line of his boxers, caressing upward, encircling a nipple, lips shifting ceaselessly along his jaw and up to his ear, it was getting difficult. His head lolled back against his will, losing the ability to hold itself, connecting sharply with Axel's collarbone.

"Hmmm, Roxie? Yes?"

He turned his head slightly, found the edge of Axel's jaw, started kissing it. The redhead chuckled quietly, nails scratching softly up the sides of Roxas' bare torso, making the boy shiver. "You're still… an asshole…"

"I do believe I am," Axel agreed, craning his neck to capture the blond's lips in a hard kiss. He brought his hips forward just the slightest amount, brushing against Roxas' boxers, tugging the boy back slightly to fit against his bare body. He swayed them faintly from side to side, intertwining the fingers of one hand with Roxas', the other continuing its way unimpeded along the planes of the teen's skin. "Hi," he breathed.

Roxas groaned. "Hi," he whispered. Axel grinded against him, making him choke and blink rapidly.

"You – are really fucking hot, like, permanently."

"A-am I?"

Axel's lips descended onto his shoulder, sucking, licking, nipping his way along to the join to his neck, free hand ever-roaming, sinking down the side of Roxas' boxers, sliding along the smooth flesh of his thigh. "Mmh." The hand travelled around slightly, touching the first few wiry hairs towards the front, making Roxas' knees fail entirely. He slumped, and Axel nearly dropped him. "Fuck!" He hauled the blond back up. "Warn me next time!"

"Sorry," Roxas said dazedly, trying to keep his feet from simply slipping away. Axel frowned.

"Are you still with me? That wasn't your brain slipping away again, was it?"

Roxas laughed suddenly. "I – I'm pretty sure it didn't. The – the fact I'm still coherent at all… is through supreme – brain power."

"I'll have to do something about that, then," the redhead growled, hitching him up, pressing against him again. "You going to turn around, Roxie?"

Roxas giggled hysterically. "You're naked."

Another grinding of hips, and both men moaned, Roxas' fingers grabbing at the air in an effort to remain upright, muscles instantly warm and liquefied. "Yep," Axel confirmed with a pant. "Very naked. Going to turn around, Roxas? Of course," his voice dropped an octave, "if you do, we'll have to get rid of _these." _He tugged on the boxer's, pulled them down dangerously low. Roxas sucked in sharply.

"I – um… Just… not – "

"Not here?"

Roxas nodded frantically. "Sh-shower fucking… not yet…"

"Who said anything about fucking?" Axel grabbed the front of the boxers suddenly, Roxas giving out a strangled yelp, bucking once. "There's a lot of things I could do to you in here…"

"P-people," Roxas whimpered. "People come in and out. People will see."

"Which people? What, you think someone paged Naminé?"

Roxas barked out a laugh, bit his lip. "Fucking hell, Axel."

"You see what you do to me?" the redhead murmured, licking the shell of his ear, pausing to nibble at it. "You – drive – me – crazy."

"Not here," Roxas breathed, eyes slipping shut. "We've… got to go patrol, and… and…"

"Okay."

Roxas blinked, was suddenly swaying alone, the redhead walking away, feet splashing through the many puddles. He turned, eyes going instantly to the bare ass, some part of him still giggling away like a schoolgirl at the fact that he was in the shower with naked _Axel. _"Wh-what?"

Axel reached the edge, bent to retrieve his towel, deliberately taking his time. He wrapped it slowly around his waist as he turned. "Okay, Roxas. We can go patrol." The bastard was smirking, Roxas looking lost and bewildered, half-drowned in water and lust. "Then, later… well, who knows what happens, walking around this big castle, all alone?"

Roxas shook himself mentally. "Uh – right. Okay. Patrolling. Patrolling is good."

"There's a lot of rooms that no one uses around here… and we've got all night…"

"Uh – what? But I thought we were meant to be… watching out for intruders?"

"Oh, we'll be watching. Or," he winked, "maybe it'll be _them _that watches."

Roxas blushed. "Or… maybe we could just patrol around."

Axel shrugged. "Either way. I'm easy." He grinned lecherously. "But then, sexy little beast that you are… it's hard to say exactly how I'll be able to keep my hands off you."

"But – " Roxas felt desperation swirl up. If he was stuck with Axel for the entire night – after this, he'd be lucky to escape the evening with his virginity intact. "I thought Demyx was going to be my – my buddy."

"Oh, sure – but that was before you broke Zexy's arm," Axel said smugly. "He'll be staying with Zex to make sure nothing happens to him. Which means…" He wandered around the edge of the room, to where the clean clothes were stacked together. "You and I will be pairing up… all night…"

"Oh." Roxas' voice was a faint squeak. "Oh. Right."

Axel nodded over at him, eyes darting around at the many showerheads. "You uh, might want to turn those off. Before we all get flooded." He flashed a grin, picking up his things, tightening the towel around his hips. "See you out there, Rox. Then it's keyblades, and prowling for a few hours. I'll make sure you don't fall asleep."

"Oh," said Roxas a third time. He was left alone in the room, sloshing unsteadily from tap to tap. All night. With Axel. Who would be naked under all those layers of fabric.

He paused, looked around hopelessly. "Oh, fuck."


	24. Chapter 24

**A/N: **Hmm. Well, I anticipate your reactions. Again, finished earlier, yay (it's like being let out after school). I don't have much to say, really, other than that this has been in my head for quite some time. Oh! Also, we're at 240 pages, and over five-hundred reviews! I really want to thank you all for carrying me this far :) Without seeing your reactions and feelings regarding all this, it would be seriously dull. Having reviewers kicks ass. Hope you all like twenty-four!

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CHAPTER TWENTY-FOUR

Their footsteps were quiet, the hallways virtually deserted. As the hours melted down, a hush fell over the castle. Roxas could feel the night grow deeper beyond the walls, the normal tone of their voices jarring and harsh when they should have been whispering.

Axel spun his chakrams easily as he walked, a swinging stride, black gloves reflecting the light as his hands shifted up and down, fingers twining the bars of the weapons. He wore his long black coat, hood hanging loosely at his shoulders. Roxas' new clothes were shades of black and white – baggy two-tone pants, a short-sleeved jacket over a black t-shirt. He wore his old shoes, dusty and comfortable, Axel's boots clomping whenever he took a broader step, pulled by the momentum of his chakrams. The keyblades were hooked over the blond's shoulders, easier and safer than carrying them aloft, his elbows stuck out slightly as he adjusted his grip on their handles.

So far, things had been quiet, just as Axel had predicted. Zexion and Demyx were settled in the main lab, tinkering further with the cracked casing, completing the last of the repairs while they monitored the communication between the various teams lazily patrolling the castle perimeter. Both Roxas and Axel had small walkie-talkies clipped to their clothing, could hear the occasional crackle of static and a bored voice reporting lack of activity at key entrances. Three hours passed without event.

"And… you guys do this every night?" Roxas asked dubiously. Axel shrugged, sighed, took a few chopping steps forward, slicing his chakrams at imaginary enemies.

"Yep. This is the night-life of a techie. We take shifts, though. I mean, no one works every night, or all night." He grinned. "That's the plus of having so many of us."

Roxas nodded slowly, fingers tightening then loosening on the keyblades. "And… is it always this boring?"

Axel laughed, the sound ringing through the corridor. "You bet your ass it is. This is the dullest fucking job in the world." His eyes twinkled, teeth baring in a semi-feral grin. "Unless, of course, there's a fight. That breaks it up nicely."

Roxas rolled his eyes. "Oh, sure, because gutting people, that's _always _fun. And you – didn't _you _get hurt last time?" Axel sobered slightly, Roxas watching curiously. "That's what that asshole in town said, right? He got you."

Axel grunted sourly. "He might have. Only because he's a jerk that plays dirty, though. If he had any kind of skill at _all, _he'd have got me down without being such a fucking pussy about it."

Roxas' eyebrows rose, lips pursing in a silent whistle. "You're planning on leaving me for him, aren't you?"

Axel shot him a wry sideways look. "Yes, dear, I'm afraid your petit cute blondness just doesn't compare to the beefcake, ginger-haired hunk that _that _guy is." He threw his arms up, flailing dangerously with the chakrams, covering his eyes with his wrist. "Oh, Bickson, my love, I am _here for you!" _His voice echoed as he dropped to his knees, Roxas snorting with laughter. He kicked the redhead's waist, making him drop a wheel with a clatter, continued on as Axel yelped and snatched it back up. He scrambled up to his feet and jogged to catch up. He twisted, walking backwards, slightly ahead of the blond, smiling broadly. "Then again, I could always go for second-best."

"So could I, I suppose," replied Roxas easily. "Naminé's really looking hot lately, don't you think?"

"Oh, you _bitch." _

Laughing, Roxas was slammed against the wall, keyblades knocking hard. "Uh-uh-uh, Axel, we're patrolling, remember? No funny business on the job!"

"Who said I was going to do anything _funny?" _the redhead growled. "I just figured my chakrams could do with a little of your blood on them, that's all."

"Kinky," Roxas offered, far more confident with all his clothes on than he had managed to be in the sultry atmosphere of the showers. "I need to ask Nam if she's into that sort of thing. Maybe – " He wheezed with amusement as Axel released him, stalking down the hall. _"Maybe you could give us lessons!"_

Axel managed to thrust up his middle finger while keeping hold of his chakram. Roxas trotted after him, chuckling. As he reached the man's side, he received a poisonous, green look. "Are you done now?"

"I don't know," the blond mused. "Where's your self-esteem right now?"

"Two words away from pounding you into a quivering ball."

"I keep telling you, Ax, not on the _job."_

Axel snarled, face contorting. "You're pushing you're luck, shortie."

"Oh, I am, am I?" Roxas raised an eyebrow. "And you telling Zack you'd leave me in _daycare – "_

"It was a _joke!"_

" – to have your way with him, and _I'm joking too!" _Roxas gave him a disbelieving look, passed one keyblade over to hold both in the one hand, and whacked the back of Axel's head. "Duh. Are you honestly this insecure, or do you really think I'm some kind of slut?"

The redhead shot him a disgruntled glare. "Don't be stupid. I _told _you, Roxas. I don't like you kidding around like that. I swear, she _likes _you. She'd snatch you from me in an instant…"

The blond scowled. "She wouldn't, Axel. Even if she does like me, she's nicer than that. She's not going to try and lure me away from you. Not to mention that fact that Demyx would drown her if she _did."_

"Before moving onto you," Axel agreed, nodding. Roxas smiled slightly, peering up at him from under his bangs.

"So, are we cool now? Has Axel stopped throwing a jealous fit?"

He was given an annoyed look. "It wasn't a _fit."_

"Was too."

A chakram slammed into the wall in front of his nose, bringing him to a sharp, startled halt, Axel's arm extending up from it, expression calm. Roxas glared. "What the fuck was that?"

"Was not."

The second chakram crashed down on his other side, pinning the blond between them. Roxas let out a yelp, twisting, trapped between the chakrams and his keyblades, not even able to lower them with Axel standing so close. He shoved at Axel's chest with his elbows. "Let me the fuck out!"

"Say it, Roxas," Axel said, a slight grin in place. "Say, 'Axel wasn't throwing a fit'."

"I won't," the blond spat stubbornly. "Let me _go, _you asshole! I don't like being stuck in small spaces!"

In response, Axel pressed closer, crushed the boy against the wall, arms stuck out awkwardly with the keyblades. He smirked. "So then say it. It won't be hard."

"You _were _throwing a fit, and if you don't get off me _right now," _Roxas snarled, "I'll be next."

"Aha, feisty, Roxie…" He lowered his lips, neck craning awkwardly, and started kissing the side of Roxas' face. Roxas hissed.

"I swear to God, Axel, get _off."_

"What?" Axel darted out his tongue. "You don't want to continue what we started in the shower?"

"Not while I'm crushed against a _wall," _Roxas choked incredulously. "Seriously, get off me. Now."

Pouting, Axel withdrew. He released the chakrams, left them planted in the wall, crossed his arms and shuffled back so that Roxas could breathe, could push away and escape the confines, arms dropping at last to his sides. The redhead eyed him uncertainly. "You don't like small spaces? What about those tunnels in Twilight Town? You were okay then."

"I don't like _small _spaces," Roxas snapped. _"Little._ I just – I don't like being cramped like that. And _what _was that hard thing in your pocket? And don't be fucking gross when you answer!"

"Uh… blowtorch?"

"It was bigger than the blowtorch. I said _don't!"_

Axel wrestled the smirk from his face. "Oh, it's okay, it's just a drink I brought along for the just-in-case situations that sometimes arise."

Roxas regarded him sceptically. "You brought a drink? Like, alcohol?"

The redhead shrugged. "Maybe yes, maybe no." He winked. "You'll find out for yourself, maybe." He deflated slightly, and added, "Sorry, I guess. For the squishing you in a small space thing…"

Roxas shook his head, let out a low growl. "Forget it. Can we just – ?"

"Is there a problem here?"

Both men let out yells, whipped around, Axel clutching his heart, to find Vincent standing a little way behind them, the tattered hem of his long red cloak swinging gently around his ankles. "How – the _fuck – _do you move so quietly?" Axel demanded, breathing hard. The man quirked a dark brow, took several graceful steps forward, coming level with Roxas. He paused, looked sideways at the blond, who gazed back nervously. "Are you alright? You two seemed to be having some trouble."

Roxas blinked rapidly, frowning. "Wh-what? Yeah, everything's fine." He added earnestly, "Axel was being an ass, but really, that's nothing new."

The redhead snorted. "Actually, _Roxie_ provoked me. He knows what he did."

"Oh, that's right, I _didn't let you win. _Silly of me."

Vincent watched silently, lips pursing slightly. The two paused, remembered him, looked over blankly. "Are you – uh, patrolling tonight, Vince?" Axel asked. Vincent nodded briefly. The redhead glowered. "Thanks for telling _dad _about me, too."

"You're welcome. Happy to help," the man replied quietly. He turned back to the blond with a small smile. "Roxas, I'm glad your bruises are fading already."

Axel, mouth open and ready to continue, paused. There was a slight, uncomfortable silence. Roxas rolled his shoulders, replaced the keyblades upon them. "We never thanked you properly for that," he realised awkwardly. "So, yeah – thanks. I was – pretty dumb going after all three like that."

Vincent studied him for a long moment, then shrugged, started moving again. "I personally would've done the same," he muttered, making the blond blink. He gave a ghost of a smile. "Glad everything's working out with you two." He reached out, clapped Axel's shoulder with his flesh hand as he passed. His gliding steps took him down the hall and around the corner, both boys watching. When at last they couldn't hear his feet any longer, soft as they were, Roxas murmured, "That guy's weird."

Axel nodded fervently, eyebrows high. "That's our Vincent. Still he's pretty cool when you talk to him." He grinned. "Don't be thrown by the whole 'vampire' look he's got going on."

Roxas chuckled slightly, curling his fingers around the blade handles. For a moment, their gazes locked, breaking apart a sheepish moment later. "So, uh, maybe I threw a fit," Axel admitted, scratching his head. Roxas snorted.

"Yeah, of course you did."

The redhead glared, grabbed the sides of the blond's head and ruffled the spikes violently, spilling them down into blue eyes. "You _know,_ that was your cue to say – " His voice went into a shrill falsetto, " – 'Oh, Axel, I've been a fool, take me on the floor!'"

Roxas laughed breathlessly. "Why would I say _that?"_

Sternly, Axel asked, "How can we have make-up sex if you won't _make-up, _Roxas?" He grabbed the blond, fingers slipping under his shirt to tickle his sides. Roxas yelped, bucked, keyblades dropping noisily as his hands spasmed.

"_Fuck!" _A mean grin in place, Axel mercilessly tickled, got him against the wall, legs sinking, the hysterical giggles bubbling and echoing. _"Get off! Don't!"_

"Well, well, I didn't know you were _this _bad," Axel teased, continuing with the assault. "Say the magic words and I'll stop!"

"_Please! Please?" _Roxas gasped.

"Nope!" Axel declared brightly. "That's not it!"

Roxas choked on his mirth. "Ah – ah! You weren't throwing a fit!"

"Sorry, that doesn't _work _anymore," the redhead sang, long fingers scrabbling, nails intensifying the sensation agonisingly. "I already admitted it, so now there's a _new _magic phrase!" He stopped suddenly, crushed Roxas against the wall, breathing heavily into the blond's ear. "Can you guess what it is?"

Heart thundering, coughing and tittering, startled, Roxas could only pant and gape. Axel squeezed his hips hard. "A-Axel…" The redhead pressed their noses together.

"Wow. You got it right. Your prize is a kiss."

He wound his hands around the blond's neck and crushed their lips together, tongue pushing into Roxas' instantly parted mouth, licking the muscle he found there before breaking away and pecking a trail down the blond's throat. "You thought I forgot the shower, didn't you?" he growled, nipping a collarbone. "Thought I was going to be a good boy… and just _patrol… _on the one night that nothing is happening…"

Roxas' eyes slid shut, chest expanding with a sharp intake of air as Axel's fingers crawled up to his nipples and tweaked the hardening buds. Then they flattened out, the man pressing against his chest, a slight frown in place. He paused in his ministrations, waited for Roxas to open his eyes, dazed blue swinging around to meet the green. "Wha – why'd you stop?"

"Roxas…" Axel's hand pushed up through the collar of Roxas' shirt, cupping the boy's cheek, thumb brushing the soft skin. "I'm not going to say this to get a response… I'm just saying it because I want to… I love you, okay? I love you."

Roxas blinked, nodded, uncertainty striking his features, averting his gaze. Axel smiled gently, stroked the hair around his face. "Just wanted to remind you…"

The kiss this time was deeper, less of an attack. Roxas sucked in through his nose, frowning as he returned the emotion. He might not be able to speak it, but he felt it. He felt the tightness around his heart, the warmth in his stomach, everything telling him that the day was close when he'd be saying it back.

For a long while, there was just the wet sound of lips, of tongues, small inhalations, slow exhalations. When Axel's hand dipped low, entered the waistband of his pants, slid down to the hot skin beneath his boxers, Roxas groaned, tipped his head back. Pleasure sparked through his nerve-endings, sent everything white, pure. Axel's mouth was on his throat, fingers squeezing gently, and it was all Roxas could to do just… stay conscious under the onslaught.

There was a sharp, loud crackle of static, a voice speaking urgently in the background. Axel jerked slightly, the motion travelling through his whole body, causing Roxas to moan breathily. His lips lifted from the blond's skin, hands pausing, eliciting a small whimper from the teen. "Axel…"

"Ssh," the redhead whispered against his neck. Roxas scowled.

"What do you mean, _ssh?" _he muttered.

Their radios crackled again, Zexion's voice buzzing through, muffled. Axel sighed, hit his head carefully against the wall beside Roxas, removed his hand from the blond's pants, the other from his shirt, Roxas gasping at the sudden loss of contact. Sending him an infinitely apologetic look, Axel unclipped the radio from his belt, took a couple of steps to the side to allow Roxas to recover, pressed the button on the side of the device and snapped, "What? What do you want?"

Zexion's voice murmured, Axel pressing it to his ear to hear better, while Roxas slumped against the wall, panting, staring blankly. A humming had set up under his skin, pleasurable even after the fact, a heat that hovered. He closed his eyes, lifting trembling hands up to his face, wiping away the fine sheen of sweat, touching his lips and concentrating on regaining enough oxygen to stand on his own again.

A little way along, Axel said, _"What?" _Zexion continued to speak quickly.

Roxas heard footsteps nearby, coming along from the T-intersection of the corridor up ahead. Vincent returning, judging from the lightness, the quickness.

"But they come in _groups. _Why would there be just one?"

Roxas straightened, smoothed his clothing, tried to look less ruffled, less – _obvious. _His pants were half unzipped. He quickly dragged the fly back up, blushing slightly, hands burning, a little thrill of anticipation racing through his veins as he thought of what had been, what would be. He cleared his throat.

"Okay, okay, we'll keep a lookout. Yes. Yes! We'll be fine. Yes, I'll look after him, asshole. I love him. Fine."

Axel hooked the radio back onto his belt, sighed, tousled a hand through the long red spikes, turned back to Roxas, whose head was tilted slightly to the side, staring down the corridor.

"Riku?"

Axel's eyebrows quirked up, before drawing into a frown. "Riku?" He walked to the blond, whose eyes were trained on the end of the hall, around the corner from him. He glanced at the redhead.

"He just walked past…"

"He's not scheduled for tonight."

"Roxas?"

The blond's face twisted back to the intersection, he took a step forward, Axel joining him in that moment, still frowning. "Riku, how come you're – "

He slammed back, letting out a grunt, followed by an agonised cry, the long blade pinning his shoulder to the wall extending back into the black-gloved hands of a man with long silver hair. Roxas let out a low wail as Axel's chin lifted, the cords of his throat jutting out, breath hissing in between clenched teeth. His gloved hands rose to the narrow blade, uselessly tugging.

"You'd be the boyfriend then," the man said, voice deep, a delighted grin splitting his lips, aqua eyes dancing.

"You'd be – the intruder – " Axel choked. Roxas darted beneath the sword, fell to his knees and grabbed up the keyblades, whipped around, staggered back up and lunged. The man twisted the sword, bringing a scream from Axel, wrenched it free from bone and flesh, steel stained brightly, whirling on the inexperienced blond and blocking the twin downward slashes. "Hello again, Roxas," he said happily. "I see you've been keeping yourself well."

Axel collapsed, gripping his shoulder, face contorted in excruciation. _"Axel!" _Roxas bared his teeth, brought the keyblades around in a cracking blow, stopped easily. Steel slid across metal, Roxas yanked his weapons back and stabbed with growing desperation, no hope. The man was toying with him, a smirk in place as he deflected the hits, a hand curled elegantly behind his body, dancing easily out of range. His blade flicked up, found Roxas' throat, stopped the boy before he could lunge further.

"I missed you." His voice was soft, the smile manic. "Did you miss me, too?"

"_Roxas! Run!" _Axel roared from the floor. The silver-haired man's expression fell into a moue of displeasure, the sword dropping away from Roxas, flipping back to its owner, rising high and preparing to stab downward in a single smooth motion.

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The sun was lower in the sky than it previously had been. The temperature had dropped, a slight breeze fluttering Roxas' hair, the skirts of his mother's white dress, the pair of them standing at the edge of the sandpit and watching the children on the swings, the red-haired one pushing towards the sky while the blond struggled to get a regular rhythm in motion.

There was an edge of urgency nagging at the back of Roxas' mind. "I shouldn't be here," he muttered.

"I don't feel well, Roxas," his mother said softly, her hands folded gracefully over her stomach. "Will you stay?"

"I don't think I can," he replied. "There's something calling to me."

She frowned. "You're leaving me already? You don't have to stay always – just for long enough. Stay until I feel better."

"Mom – I have some bones to break."

She canted her head to the side, smiled faintly. "You're breaking bones for mother?"

He shook his head firmly. "Not for you. For that one." He nodded at the redhead swinging, voice raised in a joyous laugh as he lifted high in the air.

"Ah, I see." Her eyes turned onto the taller of the ghosts with a speculative gleam, a hint of understanding. "Well, we all do what we must."

Roxas nodded. "I have to go now. Axel needs me."

He was already alone again. His mother was gone. The children were gone.

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Roxas woke up two seconds away from the man's left leg, skidding along on his knees, didn't bother to try and cut, just smashed with the back of the keyblade, cracked the metal across the bone. The silver-haired man screamed, doubling over at the pain, eyes lighting up with green inner fire as his fury pierced the blond. He forgot Axel, forgot his intent, saw only the blond, the cause of the agony. He straightened slowly, teeth ground together, jaw pulsing, and started forwards.

Roxas was still on the floor, gaping up. He started scrambling back as, with only a limp, the man came after him, dripping blood from his lower lip where he'd bitten it, spit and madness dripping from his mouth. As he got near, Roxas raised the keyblades, had them knocked away to the side. A large black boot came stomping down on the teen's forearms, eliciting a wail, fingers jumping apart, keyblades slipping away. The man bent, gripped the front of the boy's shirt, hauled him to his feet, rammed him into the wall.

"You're just like _him," _he hissed, before bringing the hilt of his sword across Roxas' face in a blinding, skin-splitting blow. Red sprayed finely across the wall beside the blond's head, spilling down his chin in an instant. The world went momentarily silent. The second blow, knuckles solidified by the sword, sent his head spinning the other way. Poisonous whispers in his ear: _"Just like him, little orphan. You should have been happy to see me! Stupid little war-orphan. You will learn your place."_

A punch to his stomach, vicious, hard, accurately placed, knowledgeable knuckles cutting deep. Another hard hit across the face, an explosion of pain, of tears, of stars and lines and visual static.

"You shouldn't have run! You shouldn't have _run!"_

Fists thudding, leather connecting with flesh, Roxas growing more and more distant, a tooth coming loose, nose ceasing to exist, blinded by sweat and blood and spit.

"Stupid Cloud! _Stupid fucking Cloud! You shouldn't have left!"_

Roxas was balled in against himself, arms up to feebly try and block the blows, not allowed to fall, not allowed to give up and just drop. Suddenly the man stopped, seized him by the shoulders, shook him hard.

"Why did you leave? Why did you _do this?!" _

A sharp breath, Roxas a pathetic mess, mewling faintly, body trying hard not to inhale its own fluids. The hands gentled, fingers running through his hair. "But you're not him, after all. You just look like him, don't you, Roxas? Same blond hair, same blue eyes… you could have been brothers…"

Numb lips, bleeding teeth, and the man leaned in for a kiss, Roxas unresisting, unfeeling as the thin, metallic taste was sucked from his mouth and into another, a foreign tongue probing to see how many of the little mastication bones remained standing tall.

A sound, a strange sound, a watery, raining sound in the abrupt silence. The man pulled back, frowning, head twisting to the side, where Axel was crouched, eyes viciously hot and hard, a bottle in his hand, the murky liquid within spraying out, dribbling onto the ground, wetting the side of the silver-haired man's pants, his arm, the exposed section of his turned chest, the tips of his hair. He let out a small noise of disgust, feet sliding slightly as he turned. Axel grinned wickedly, threw the bottle aside with a hollow clatter, pulled the blowtorch from his pocket and lit it up.

It was then that the smell translated, the strong reek of kerosene quickly billowing through the confined space. Teal eyes narrowed at green.

"Let Roxie go," the redhead said, crooked smile in place, "or you go 'poof' now. Immolation surprise." He staggered to his feet, left arm curled uselessly against his body. The torch bobbed with his every motion, a knife of blue, the air around it swirling and swelling. He left a pool of crimson on the ground, a long smear along the wall. His eyes narrowed, the smile snatching away into an ugly scowl when the man didn't move to comply. He brandished the torch menacingly. "Let Roxas go, or I toss this at your head. All that pretty hair will _burn." _

The edges of the man's lips tugged back into a twisted grimacing grin, amusement, insanity, and he slowly wrapped his arms around the shivering, helpless form of the blond. He pulled Roxas close, rubbed against him, transferring the flammable fluid, sharing the danger. He turned, the teen clasped to his chest, hanging low, hands dangling down, fingertips twitching every now and then. "Are you going to burn Roxas, too?" he asked happily, eyes having never once left Axel's.

The redhead's expression had slackened, eyes turning dull, at the defeat, at seeing Roxas head-on like that. "What are you going to do?"

The man laughed, nuzzled his face into Roxas' hair. "I think I'll take my Roxie and go."

Axel flared, nearly crying out, nearly throwing the torch and damning the consequences, because _anything _was better than this psycho having Roxas, calling him his own. He trembled, shook, mouth opening, a small, anguished noise escaping. His tongue swelled, throat revolting, bitter saliva flooding his mouth, heart clutching.

"Let him go! You don't need him!"

"Oh, but I _do," _the man responded, smiling thinly, pinching one beaten cheek as if the boy were some cherubic child to be adored instead of a bleeding, broken teen unconscious in his arms. "Roxas belongs to _me _now. I've decided I quite like him. He's got that _fight _in him." His eyes narrowed, lips pressing tightly together. "His shell will make a fine puppet."

Axel cracked, tears streaming down his face, demanded, "Who _are_ you?"

The man's gaze ticked sideways to the blowtorch. "Shut that thing off. Throw it away. Then I'll tell you."

Axel hesitated, realised there was nothing he could do with it anyway. He clicked off the flame, tossed it backwards, heard it hit the ground, flip, roll out of reach, leaving him utterly defenceless. The long sword was still firmly grasped in the man's hands, blade touching the floor. He smirked.

"Good," he said softly. "It seems there are those who can be trained after all."

Axel choked, asked, "Who the fuck _are _you? What do you want with Roxas?"

The man hitched the boy up, nestled his nose tenderly into the mottled flesh of his cheek, kissed it gently. "My name is Sephiroth. And I desire this boy. I want to own him, and put him on a leash, and play with him. He is just like Cloud…"

"Cloud?" Axel burst out, hands forming fists. "What's _he_ got to do with it?"

Sephiroth snarled, "What business is it of yours?" His tone flattened. "He doesn't even matter anymore. He left, and Roxas is _mine _now." He raised his sword, pointing it violently at the redhead, eyes blazing. "And there's nothing _you, _or _anyone else _can do about it! He – belongs – to _me! _I'll slit his _throat _before I see him with you again!"

"Guess it's a good thing that your eyes have only got a few seconds left, then," Axel replied curtly, making the silver-haired man falter slightly.

Larxene attacked from behind, taser jamming deep into the man's back, a sharp jolt travelling through his body, limbs spasming out, sword dropping with a clang, Roxas simply slipping to the ground. His knees hit, body crumpling backwards, skull thunking as it connected. Sephiroth fell sideways against the wall, Larxene darting in and gathering Roxas up, half-dragging, half-carrying him in a run past Axel. The redhead had spun to the wall where his chakrams resided, used his good arm to rip one free, bringing chunks of chipboard fluttering out. He ran towards Sephiroth as Larxene dragged Roxas the other way.

"Why isn't he dead?" he barked, as the man pushed away from the wall, head dipped low, hair hanging across his face in a silver curtain.

"It's still fucking around," she snapped back, of her taser. "Be glad I came at all!"

Axel got to Sephiroth as he was reaching for his sword, a large boot swinging up, cracking the man in the face, sending his head snapping back, hands snatching away from the hilt on the ground. Hair flew, blood flew, Axel growled and wound up with the chakram, sent it spinning down the hallway. It missed Sephiroth by a bare inch as the man, seeing the danger a split-second before it hit, threw himself to the side. The leather encasing his right arm was split open, the flesh cut deep, but the death Axel had been anticipating was cheated from him. His other chakram was still in the wall, but Sephiroth was running back towards his sword, and the redhead knew he wouldn't be able to defend himself one-handed.

He turned on heel, sprinted after Larxene, snatched up his blowtorch, cool to touch, as he swept by it, heard Sephiroth chasing in his wake. _Roxas. _He had to get to Roxas.

He raced around the corner, gasping for air, dizzy and weak from blood-loss, heard the man's heavy breathing, the hiss, the brutal fury radiating forward, snapping at Axel's heels. He saw Larxene, bellowed, _"Hurry the fuck up, bitch!"  
_She paused to scoop Roxas up properly, legs dangling over her right arm, head pressed against her shoulder and breast. She started running in earnest, the flat heels of her shoes clicking rapidly. Axel followed, gaining on them, and when he felt the threat of Sephiroth's sword drawing near, he bounced to a stop, whipped around, torch already alight again, hissing loudly, intense and ready to ignite.

Sephiroth slid to a halt, as Axel brought it up, eyes wild. "I'll run at you, and take you down," the redhead vowed. "If you take another _step. _I've got kerosene on me, too – we'll both go up, but at least you won't get Roxas." He saw the man's hesitation, his doubt. _"I'll fucking do it," _Axel roared, stabbing the flame forward as he spoke. "Roxas is _mine. _I'll defend him from _anyone. _I will kill _you,_ I will kill _me, _I will fucking destroy all of Hollow _Bastion _if it means keeping him safe." His eyes danced, burned, shone with the obsession that had carried him through the long, dark years, the one point of light that kept him going in a world barren and empty.

Sephiroth saw. And decided he didn't want to die for some blond boy that wasn't even Cloud.

His eyes found Axel's, conceding the fight. "Don't let him out of your sight," he warned softly. "Because I've claimed him now. He belongs to me, and I _will_ return for him."

"I'll set this whole fucking _castle _on fire," Axel promised shakily.

The man's gaze flicked down to the ground, came back up smiling. "You've got a little blood on you."

He walked away, and it was all Axel could do to not pass out in the middle of the corridor.


	25. Chapter 25

**A/N: **I liiiiive! I really, really do! Sorry about the delay, folks, I've been sick the last couple days and _yesterday _I took some medicine that knocked me like you wouldn't believe. I was chilling with fairies, only in a less hallucinatory, high-as-a-kite way. That's why so many review replies were late, and there was this hole where there should have been a chapter. However, all is improved, my brain is back and has set up a tent (which indicates a reasonable stay), and, as you see, the results are before you :) Don't mind the randomness, I'm just pleased to finally have finished this one. IT WAS PAINFUL.

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CHAPTER TWENTY-FIVE

The sun had set further still over the playground, creating pools of shadows, crevices of darkness in amongst the spears of amber light. There was still a stifling warmth hanging on the air, but it was underlaid with a chill that crawled under Roxas' skin and got him shivering. He frowned, looking around slowly. The place appeared to be empty. There were no cries, no squeals, no little ghosts sending the sand kicking up. There was a loneliness in the air, a hollowness.

His feet took him slowly across the white sand, hands chafing at his arms. He moved through the abandoned equipment, eyes scanning for signs of life, of death.

"_Have you come to see mother?"_

Roxas twisted, saw the white figure walking around the edge of the playground, steps measured and even. Even from here, he could see the bony-thinness of her arms, hands clasped in front of her legs, shoulders jerking with each step. Frowning in concern, he started across the lot towards her. "Mom?" he called. "Mom, are you alright?"

She lifted her head, covered by a white net veil, obscuring her face, though letting her hair tumble freely down her back. She didn't look at the blond. "Mom, wait!" Roxas reached her, stretched out to touch her, gasped as his warm fingers connected with her icy flesh. There was a resounding crack, bringing him whipping around, hand snatching back, eyes wide. It took him a moment to realise what had caused the noise – he saw the see-saw lurch drunkenly, its freshly splintered edge pointing up the sky as the seat bounced once, twice, and settled. A massive rock, out of nowhere, had dropped and crushed the opposite seat.

For a long minute, he stared, heart thundering. A piercing of fear stabbed deep, a sudden certainty that one of the children had been sitting there. Letting out a panicked cry, he took off across the sand, shoes sinking and skidding, jacket flapping around his waist, the air growing thick and sultry. His quick, quiet steps took him to the chunk of stone, almost as tall as Roxas himself. He swallowed thickly, gasping through his mouth, eyes darting around the base of the rock with terror. He circled it swiftly, searching for little hands, little arms, little mangled corpse beneath the crush.

Nothing.

Roxas let out a sigh that was almost a sob, crouching for a moment, taking hold of his head, trying to calm the pounding through his veins. A hand touched his shoulder, bringing his face jerking to the side, eyes falling on the greyed claws curling around him, once fingers slender and young. With a heavy groan, the jungle gym across the playground bowed suddenly. It held, but was no longer shining like new, looked old, looked tired, a layer of rust coating the chipped metal. A fresh burst of cold swept through the area. Roxas raised his gaze, saw the veil, no hint of what was behind it.

"_Did you come for mother?" _Her voice was a dry whisper, rasping in her throat.

"M-mom?"

She knelt beside him, wasted arms enveloping him, drawing him against her emaciated form, sharp corners digging into Roxas' flesh, his breathing short and shallow, eyes wide and darting, muscles tense.

"_Mother misses you, Roxas." _Her fingers ran through his hair, nails catching every now and then against the scalp, making him wince. _"Make sure to return to mother, yes?"_

Roxas swallowed, nodded slowly. "I miss you, too, mom."

There was a sigh. _"I wish I could see you. You feel so far away. I wish you would return."_

"Return where?"

"_Home, dear. Come home to me. As soon as you can… I need my boy to feel better again." _One hand came around to cup his face, turn it towards her, towards the white wall where her face should have been, her kind eyes, her smile, blanketed from him. Her skin was parched against his, chapped, almost painful to have touching. _"You don't forget mother, and mother won't forget you. We will always be one, as long as you continue to return. The boy has seen to it. The bad boy has made certain we remain together always, my dear son."_

"Bad boy? Who's a bad boy?" Roxas frowned. "Not Axel?"

She laughed quietly, and it was that same tinkling sound that reminded him of being tucked into bed, the fullness of contentment in his chest. _"Your love is a good boy, just like you." _

"So who's the _bad _boy?"

She patted his cheek, made him flinch. _"Just make sure to remember the left leg, Roxas. Bones have yet to be broken."_

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Dawn came to the castle, peeping over the top of the mountains, stabbing light through the darkness. DiZ moved through the corridors quietly, feet barely making noise, robes rustling softly. The halls were deserted, all occupants but five either sleeping, or dumbstruck and waiting for his presence. His hands twitched slightly, fingers interlocked behind his back, the stray end of the bandages surrounding his face fluttering as he walked. It was a rare occasion that brought him from his study, and it surprised him not that Axel was part of the reason. Nor the new boy, Roxas. That one was made for Axel… had been stirring trouble since day one of his arrival… had inspired it in Axel before he had even stepped foot out of Twilight Town.

He traversed the old passages sedately, mind calm, working carefully through the information he had garnered, seeking a conclusion, a solution. He entered the dining hall, saw the sun glowing behind the mountains, nodded to it in greeting, approached the table at the far end, where those involved, and those concerned, were gathered.

Leon stood quickly upon noticing his arrival, the others turning to look, following suit, some awkward, others respectful. Cloud just looked… confused. Zack stood quietly beside him, a hand on his back, present. DiZ took his position at the head of the table.

"I have spoken to Aerith," he said abruptly, tongue rolling with the 'r' in the flower woman's name. "She says the boys will be fine."

Collective sighs of relief, Cloud's chin dipping to his chest, hands clamped behind his back, Zack's hand shifting up to his shoulder and squeezing.

"She, Zexion and Demyx will stay with them at the hospital until afternoon, and ride up to the castle with the next wave of deliveries," the man added. He swept in front of his chair and sat regally, the others taking the opportunity to collapse into their own chairs, Larxene crossing her legs carefully, a scowl in place, Cloud stiff, Leon's elbows set on the surface, hands over his mouth, watching the blond. Sora, dazed and sleepy, one of the few full technicians along with Luxord, slumped over the table. Riku, insisting on joining them despite his lack of involvement and lower status, laid his head gently against the boy's spine. Yuffie was grim, hair tousled, the chair beside her empty.

DiZ brought his hands up and elegantly folded them on the table, his golden eyes finding each of them in turn. "Tell me what you have found out since the intruder left."

"Vince is still tracking him," Yuffie grunted, a hand holding up her head, fingers raked through the soft hair. "He switched off his phone, which means he doesn't want to be heard… He must be close to the guy…"

"Sephiroth…" Cloud muttered, Zack's grip tightening on him. The blond took his face in his hands, sucking in a deep breath, exhaling slowly.

"That's the General, is it not?" DiZ asked sharply. "Zanarkand's celebrated General Sephiroth?" He thought it over. "Impossible."

"Don't I know it," the blond mumbled. Larxene looked at him sharply.

"That's the name Axel said. He said the guy called himself Sephiroth."

"I wish Aerith had let me speak to the boy," DiZ said darkly. "She is far too protective of him. She wouldn't let me question him in his injured state any more than he already had been."

"It's probably for the best," Zack said quietly from beside Cloud. "He couldn't have told you anything pertinent."

"Nothing _pertinent?" _Leon's hands dropped to the table, wrists arching over as his knuckles rapped the surface. His expression was disbelieving, distasteful. "He was _there_. He saw the whole thing, and was conscious at the end of it. He told us _everything _that happened, and you think it isn't _pertinent?"_

Cloud shook his head, a frustrated motion, hands balling at his forehead. "Leon – you don't understand. Zack doesn't mean that Axel didn't know _anything_… just… nothing _important…"_

Leon stared. Silence reigned around the table, all eyes upon the three men, Yuffie barely containing her fury. "Okay…" he said at last. "I'm listening, Cloud. What do you know that we obviously don't?"

Yuffie exploded. "How about the fact that he's a _soldier?" _she barked across the table, drawing the attention to her small, shaking frame. Cloud's azure eyes widened, hands falling, arms folding against the metal top. He swallowed, as the eyes of the gathered turned promptly back to him. Yuffie sneered. "I heard you. Last night, after dinner. And I saw Zack give you those dog tags. What, did you drop them on the battlefield, and your dear friend tracked you down to return them?"

His eyebrows knitted together, head dropping sharply. He was a long time answering, plunging in only when Leon tersely asked, "Well?"

His eyes fluttered closed, refusing to lift his face. His voice was soft. "I – I never lied to you. I just… didn't tell you."

Yuffie's palms smacked the table, her shoulders hunched over aggressively. "You failed to tell the _truth! _Cid's retired – _you're _still in the army. You're _Zanarkand. _You have been all this _time!"_

"I'm Zanarkand," Zack interjected sharply. "And you found a way to tolerate me. Why are you being so harsh on Cloud? Why would he want to tell you anything, knowing you'd react this way?" His dark blue eyes bored into the ninja's angry hazel. "Leave him alone. You obviously didn't even hear the entire conversation."

"Cloud can fight his own battles," snapped Leon. "We don't need you speaking for him."

Zack shot him a harsh look. "He's my _friend. _If you think I'm going to let you people gang up on him – "

" 'You people'?" Yuffie bristled. "What's _that_ supposed to mean?"

"Hey, does everyone mind shutting the fuck up?" Sora's cutting words hung in the air, slicing the heat. His cerulean eyes found Yuffie. He didn't say a word, but after a long moment, she sank back into her seat, teeth grinding. "I think you've all forgotten what this meeting is about," the boy continued, voice like a whip. "Roxas and Axel. That's it. Who the _fuck _cares about Cloud being a soldier when they're lying in hospital, both horribly hurt? I just want to know who _did _this to them."

Silence fell tense across the gathered. "Well said," commented DiZ quietly. He lifted his chin slightly. "Cloud – you were saying?"

Again, Yuffie wanted to leap up and speak, but a cold-eyed Riku, arm wrapped around Sora's waist, stared her down. She bit her tongue, subsided, threw herself back and crossed her arms.

Cloud, sitting shell-shocked throughout the exchange, lifted his gaze slowly, meeting no one's, looking past them all, features slack. "I – didn't want to live that life anymore," he said dully. "I didn't want to hurt more than I was." He returned his eyes to the table. "So I left. I ran away. From – from Sephiroth. Because… I couldn't stand it anymore."

"You _know _the man that did this to Axel and Roxas?" Leon demanded. Cloud flinched away minutely from his tone, Leon earning a fierce glare from the raven-haired man at his side. The blond shook his head slightly.

"I don't _know _him, Leon. I _knew _him." At the blank looks he received, he heaved a sigh, thumbs fidgeting with each other. "I – I was his lover. Sephiroth's. He was the General… and I was his."

"His bitch," Yuffie snapped. Cloud lifted his chin, let out a short bark of laughter a moment later.

"Call it what you want, Yuf. It doesn't matter anymore." He took a deep breath. "The thing is – Sephiroth… didn't do this. To Axel, to Roxas – it wasn't him. And I – I know that Axel said he thinks that – it was Sephiroth that day in the valley… but it wasn't him then, either." He raised his eyes, met Yuffie's burning glare, slid across to Leon's blank grey eyes. "Sephiroth's dead. He killed himself. And his brothers. Six weeks ago." He shuddered suddenly, drew in on himself, head sinking, hands clamping in his lap, knees pressing together. Zack shifted closer, wrapped his arm more firmly around the blond. His gaze was hard on Leon.

"How do you know?" Sora asked tiredly. Then he shook his head. "Stupid question. Zack?" He looked at the man, who nodded.

"It's why I'm here. I came to deliver the news."

Cloud laughed curtly. "He told me just last night. After dinner. I'm still… kind of dealing with it."

"What a load of bullshit," Yuffie snapped. "If _the _General Sephiroth had killed himself, we'd have found out ages ago. Hollow Bastion would be dancing in the streets!"

"It was kept quiet," Zack responded abruptly. "The war might be over, but that doesn't mean morale doesn't matter anymore. If the troops found out that the top general took not only himself out, but three of the best soldiers the army has known as well, how the hell do you think they'd all react?" His expression was angry, bitter. "You might want to lump us all as heartless bastards, but all those soldiers are just one man after another doing what he thinks is right. They deserve better than knowing that their general was so repelled by himself and his brothers he chose to exact revenge on behalf of all _you."_

Yuffie blinked, then narrowed her eyes. "You're lying."

Zack let out a snort of disgust, leaning back in his chair, fingers gripping Cloud's shoulder tightly.

"Actually," DiZ entered the conversation at last, stirred from his observation, "it's not a lie. The General is dead." In answer to Zack's surprise, he added dryly, "Reluctant though I may be, I _am _the political head of Hollow Bastion – these things have a habit of getting around the upper echelons."

Larxene leaned forward, frowning. "So you're saying that guy last night – whoever he said he was – isn't actually Sephiroth?" She thought for a moment. "Maybe it's a different Sephiroth? Axel didn't think automatically of the _general _when he heard the name. More than one guy?"

Cloud shook his head sharply, sucking a breath. "Only one with silver hair and a long sword. Hard to imitate…"

"Yet someone managed, if this is all to be believed," Leon said with a scowl. "Because a man with a long sword and silver hair tried to kill Axel and kidnap Roxas." He looked at Zack. "Why would a man like that kill himself? And all his brothers? Did he just go insane, or what?"

Cloud chuckled hollowly, a startled noise to begin with, before melting into laughter hard enough to be called howls, tears springing from his eyes. With the occupants of the table staring, DiZ included, he leaned over the table and pounded it with his fist. Zack, worried, patted him on the back. "Come on, Spike, snap out of it."

Cloud waved him away, pushing himself up, face contorted with giggles, smearing the moisture from his cheeks. It took a minute for him to regain composure, breathing hard, gasping in every now and then. "Did – did Seph go insane, you ask?" He chuckled again, coughed hard, a fist clamped to his lips, eyes squeezing shut. After a long moment, he cleared his throat, took a long, shuddering breath. He lowered his hand back to his lap, smiled in a disturbed fashion, nodded. "Yeah. Seph lost his mind, Leon. Why – why do you think I left when I did? He – he was going nuts. Bit by bit – he was…" He stopped, lowered his head to the table, pressed the hot skin of his forehead to the cold steel. "Oh, man. That could've been me. If I hadn't left when I did… He'd have taken me out, too."

"He tried to take Roxas last night, to replace you," Larxene said, squinting. "You still think the dude is dead?"

Cloud stilled. "I don't know who that was… but it _wasn't _Seph."

"How do you know for _sure, _though?" Leon demanded.

"I saw the body," Zack interjected quietly. "I was called in to identify it. Other than Cloud, I was closest to him. Believe me – you could throw him into a weir with rocks tied to his feet, and he wouldn't get any deader."

There was a silence at the table, the information sinking in, swirling around with ever more questions. Sora closed his eyes, rubbed the bridge of his nose roughly, Riku's hand sliding over his naked shoulder. Larxene huffed out a breath, arms crossing tighter over her waist. Leon stared at Cloud, who gazed at the table.

"So," said Zack softly, "we're brought back to the question of _who. _And _how _they know Cloud… What's the connection?"

"How many silver-haired freaks are there running around?" Larxene muttered. Her eyes darted up briefly. "Sorry, Riku."

Riku's brows rose, he shook his head. "Oh, no, it's cool. I mean… there was the General, then his brothers… I've read about them. Their war-crimes were atrocious. Categorise all you want – I don't mind being the exception."

Cloud's eyes slipped shut again, chin dropping to his chest, leg setting up a restless jig under the table. The sound of his shoe squeaking filled the air. Leon's gaze, narrow, was stuck to him. "How could you be with someone like that?" he asked in a low voice. "Didn't you know what he was like?"

"Look, _you _don't know what he was like," the blond muttered. "He wasn't bad."

"_Not bad?" _Yuffie shrieked. He gave a shrill, short laugh. "He _destroyed _Wutai, Cloud! We were in Zanarkand's path, so they just rolled over us! _He _was the one giving the orders! The man was _prime fucking evil!"_

"He wasn't," Cloud burst out desperately, face coming up. "He was a good soldier, that's all! He was too good!"

"You've got a skewed idea of good," Sora said sharply. "There's a difference, Cloud, between a good soldier and a ruthless one."

The man grated his teeth together, an anxious expression on his face. "Look – you don't… He really wasn't bad. He was good in his _heart."_

"You mean that cold, black thing in his chest?" Yuffie was on her feet again. "Look, I see nothing else worth discussing here," she snapped. "We don't know who did it, since Cloud's _darling _is already six-feet under, and Roxas and Axel are being taken care of, so why the _fuck _am I still hanging around?" She pushed away, stalked from the table, heading for the door. "Leave it to Vincent," she called. "He'll find the guy, shoot him through the head, and then we'll know for sure."

She vanished through the doorway. There was… nothing much else to say. After a moment, Cloud stood quietly, went to the broad windows overlooking the brightening world. Zack budged, as if wanting to rise and follow, but allowed the blond whatever privacy he needed. Leon's head was tipped back, legs stretched out, breathing slowly.

Cloud stared out blankly for a long minute. His clasped hands, behind his back, fell to his sides, trembled, formed tight fists. He coughed once.

Then he screamed, and punched the glass, once, twice, cursing violently, knuckles bloodied in moments. Leon was up in an instant, lunging across the room beside Zack, the two men grabbing the furious blond, wrenching him back from the shivering pane.

"_Spike! Cut it out!" _Zack yelled as Cloud thrashed and writhed, shirt riding up, feet scraping the ground as he struggled to continue the attack on nothing and no one.

"_Cloud! _That's enough!" Leon barked. "Keep it together!"

With a growing growl, Cloud went still, then tore from their hands, dancing lightly on the balls of his toes. He steadied, damaged hands shaking, snapping down to his sides. He caught Leon's gaze, rage glinting in the blue depths. "I – am so _sick," _he hissed at the brunet, "of you _judging _me." He turned to the assemblage, who were wide-eyed and shocked, Riku and Sora on their feet, ready to intervene. He cried, _"I didn't do anything wrong!"_

When Leon tried to touch his arm, he jerked away roughly, arms wheeling, blood droplets flying through the air. With one last torn look, the blond turned and left, much in the way of Yuffie. Zack tried calling after him, "Cloud…!" He was ignored, and their number was reduced by another. Zack clicked his tongue, scratched ferociously at his head for a second. He glared at Leon. "You're really some kind of asshole, you know that?"

Leon flared, snarling, _"Me? _The only reason you're even _here _is to tell Cloud his boyfriend _killed _himself! Where were you the last six weeks, when he'd sit in the corner of the table just to be able to stare out the fucking window every mealtime? Where were _you _when he was like some hollow fucking gourd with human skin?"

"_I was trying to not find him!" _the raven-haired man yelled back. "If I'd found him, _Seph _would have found him. _Cloud didn't want to be found!"_

"So, despite being such a _good man," _Leon sneered, "Cloud still ran away. He _ran? _Why the hell couldn't he just leave like a normal person?"

"Because _normal _people don't love the general of the Zanarkand army," Zack spat. "And _normal _people don't wake up with their lover carving his arm up for the pretty patterns it makes at the breakfast table at two in the morning!" He drew back, calming down but no less angry. "You can judge him, but he's right – Seph was a good man, and a better killer. It's the whole reason he's dead now. Imagine being a merciless killer with a heart, Leon – and then imagine living in peacetime. Then, try to picture yourself as that tortured person's lover, and maybe you'll have a shade of understanding for what Spike went through." He glared at everyone at the table. "I'm finding Cloud. Then we're waiting until Aerith comes back. Then the three of us are going to have a long talk, and you just might find yourself minus a couple people you pretended to appreciate before they didn't fit your ideals."

"You're _not _taking Aerith away!" Leon boomed. Zack whipped around to him, disgusted.

"You know, she really wasn't the one I thought you'd worry about most." He shook his head. "Forget you, man. Cloud's better off alone, with me and Aer."

A flash of panic crossed the brunet's face, before clamping down under the regular dispassionate expression. "Maybe you're right."

The meeting broke apart.

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Roxas woke up in the hospital in a white room. His eyes cracked slowly open, blurred, the right one swollen almost completely shut. He breathed in slowly, felt himself swimming through a fog. His fingers twitched against the tight sheets pinning his waist to the bed. His mind was empty, blank, gaze content to rest upon the ceiling. The sound of a page turning drew his lagging attention, brought his head turning carefully to the side. Zexion sat cross-legged in a chair next to the curtain-obscured window. The man held a small novel in one hand, the thumb of the other perched absently upon his tongue. The hand hold the book was encased in a white plaster-cast. Roxas closed his eyes.

"Zexion…"

The man looked up sharply, tongue darting back into his mouth, the book snapping shut. "Roxas?" He stood, slipping the novel onto the chair, coming over to the bed. He rested his knuckles on the mattress, studying the boy. After a moment, in which Roxas neither moved or spoke, Zexion faltered uncertainly. He leaned closer. "Are you awake?"

"…Yeah…" the blond sighed faintly. The man blinked, frowned, a hand tenderly touching the side of his face.

"Are you in pain? They've got you on painkillers, but I can get them to up the dosage if it still hurts."

"Where's… Axel?" Roxas mumbled, numb, not even feeling the fingers brush the hair from his face.

"He's in the next room over," Zexion said softly. "Aerith is with him. He's going to be fine."

"I want him."

The man shook his head. "You can't have him. He needs rest even more than you do. He's lost a lot of blood." He smiled slightly. "If we let him see you the way that you are now, we'd never get him back in his own room."

"Even more reason to bring him to me." Roxas' eyes flashed open, hand jerking out to wrap around the heavy cast, weak and clumsy. "Please. I want him."

Zexion gently disconnected the fingers. "When you're stronger, you can go to him, Roxas. But you need to stay put for a couple of days."

"Days?" Roxas' voice cracked. His eyes slipped shut, already exhausted by the brief encounter, words slurring. He shook his head minutely. "I _want _him…"

Zexion was already walking back to his chair, seeing Roxas' losing battle, resigning himself back to sitting, reading, waiting. Dem would be back soon with the coffee, cheap crap that it was. "Sleep, Roxas. Your body needs it. The sooner you're better, the sooner you get Axel."

Against his will, the blond was swept back out of the room and into the darkness.

Demyx entered a few minutes later, dressed in a woolly jacket and a thick scarf, toting two large Styrofoam cups and a bright smile. He glanced over at the motionless figure on the bed. "How's our invalid?" he whispered loudly, passing the beverage to the grateful Zexion. The man popped the lid off, sniffing the murk within.

"He woke up for a minute. Asked for Axel."

Demyx snorted, taking the seat against the opposite wall, hunching down in his warm clothing. "He's just like Axel, then. He won't give up about it. Poor Aerith's just about going nuts." He grinned briefly. "I think Axel's enjoying cracking her cool."

Zexion refitted the cap on the cup, lined up the small drinking hole, and sipped delicately. He grimaced at the bitter flavour. "Sugar?"

"It _eats _it," the blond replied earnestly. "I put like, three sachet thingies in. There's enough sugar in that sucker to rot your _teeth."_

The slate-haired man sighed, shrugged, took another swallow. For a while, there was silence. Demyx unwound the massive scarf from his neck. "It's chilly out there," he murmured. Zexion shot him a small smile.

"Bored, Dem?"

The blond rolled his eyes. "I'm dying over here." He peered over curiously at the slumbering teen. "What did he say? Anything about what happened?"

The other man shook his head. "He wasn't conscious for long enough. His head really wasn't in the room. He just wanted Axel."

Demyx was frustrated. "Those two just can't get a break, can they?" His expression grew worried. "Aerith said we've only got two hours left before our ride leaves for the castle." He met his lover's eyes across the room. "I know this is boring and all, but – I don't want to leave them. They'll both be alone if we're not here."

Zexion looked over compassionately. "They'll be here for at least another three days, Dem. Longer even, for Axel. We can't stay all that time. We can come down to visit, though."

Demyx sighed, kicked his feet, dragging the shoes squeaking across the floor. "I know. I just feel bad. What if Roxie doesn't wake up again before we leave? He'll be expecting you to still be here!"

Zexion shrugged slightly, eyes returning to his book as he sipped at his drink. "We need to return, Dem. Roxas will be alright. The staff here is very good."

Demyx humphed, crossing his arms. _"I _know that. I was here, too. And…" He fidgeted unhappily. "I _hated _being alone. I _hated _when everyone had to leave…"

Zexion fixed him with a flat look. "I stayed, Demyx. The entire time."

The blond brightened momentarily. "I know. It was like a slumber party." He sagged. "The kind where you're a huge loser, and only one person turns up."

The other man rolled his eyes again, more broadly this time. "Hospital visits aren't a chance to exhibit popularity, Demyx. We all have our duties at the castle to attend to – even Aerith can't stay, as much as she desperately wants to. It's out of our hands."

Demyx nodded gloomily. "I know. I just wish, is all."

The time passed quietly, Zexion reading his book, Demyx doing the crossword in a newspaper he'd found in Roxas' beside dresser. The blond teen didn't stir, despite Demyx's frequent checks. Just when he was beginning to wonder if the boy was even still breathing, the door eased open, and a weary Aerith entered the room.

"The doctor's making his rounds, boys – we need to get going." Zexion sighed and stood, clutching his novel to his side, while Demyx dug his heels into the ground, crossed his arms, and pouted. "Dem," Aerith warned. "Don't you make a fuss and wake Roxas."

"But I _want _him to wake," the blond whined. "At least then we could say bye!"

She smiled faintly. "I know it's hard." She shifted over to the bed, gazed down at the reposing blond. "But he needs his sleep. We'll be back tomorrow."

Demyx hung his head, dragged himself to his feet, leaving his empty Styrofoam cup on the ground, and proceeded to wind himself back up into his scarf. Zexion moved to his side, took his hand when he was ready, and with a last glance over their shoulders, the three left the room.

Roxas opened his eyes, as far as he could, and waited until Demyx's voice had faded down the hall. The instant they had stepped out, his tone had leapt back to normal, loud. Roxas listened to him for quite some time, until he was sure that they weren't coming back. He wondered how long it would take for the doctor to finish his rounds. He was exhausted – it was all he could do to keep his eyelids open. Demyx's incessant whispering had drawn him from the deeper part of his mind, kept him aloft, hovering, the slightly more alert part of him scheming and desperately wishing they would all just go. He heard no words that were spoken, just the low buzz of voices as he gripped to consciousness and the image of the redhead, burning to know if he was okay.

Roxas swung, waltzed back and forth across the line separating sleep from wakefulness, the world thick and hazy around his ears. At last, there was sound again, pricking his gliding state, dragging him up through from one plateau of awareness to the next, rising ever for the surface. He felt fingers on his skin, around his wrist. An eyelid was pried open, almost tearing him awake, but he clung to his drowsiness, knowing that anything more would result in questions, in further tests. He just wanted to be left alone. Then he would be able to find Axel. Bright light flashed into his skull, burrowing into the hollow of his pupil, and vanished again. His eye slipped shut, with great relief.

For several minutes, there was no noise, but the footsteps had yet to leave. He remained still, and struggled to not simply slip down again. Eventually, the doctor left, Roxas basking in the silence, the emptiness. He fought to open his eyes again, found with panic that they were sealed tight. _Fuck. _He'd fallen asleep again. His mind fought his body, clawed its way through the veils and curtains separating him from the world of sight and motion. When he finally managed to free himself of slumber's drug-induced bindings, whatever dim light had been filtering through the covered window was gone. Night had come.

This time, staying awake wasn't as much of a chore, but pain throbbed with each breath. Axel was close, though. He was just beyond the wall. The blond concentrated on moving, stiff muscles complaining, ribs stabbing as his stomach struggled to tug him up to sitting. His face _felt _like a mess. He could feel the various swellings, the all-over aching. His legs, though – they were okay. And his arms – they were bruised a little, and moving them hurt his chest and ribs, but they were okay as well.

He plucked at the tight sheet, kitten-weak, struggled to tighten his fingers enough to release himself. He squirmed, scowled, felt frustration rise and hiss. He bit it back, took a deep, painful breath, shoved at the covering, getting his elbows in on the effort, using his entire, agonised upper body. At last it came loose, the relief like a dam bursting, and Roxas was able to draw his legs out and lower them to the floor.

He stood carefully, clutching the edge of the mattress, attempted to take some weight onto his legs and nearly folded. His fingers dug in, knuckles going white, everything shivering, jelly-like. His arms trembled, tears springing involuntarily from his eyes as his pulverised torso took the strain. He swallowed, breathing harshly, and locked his knees. His second attempt, less ambitious, more cautious, was successful in that he could stand alone. Roxas took a shuffling step, shambling, hunched over like an old man, arthritic. However, he wasn't falling, and it wasn't hurting too bad now that the emphasis was back on his legs and hips.

Giving a weak cough, he managed to reach the door, drained already. He leaned against the wall, praying no one would come in now and ruin all his hard work. After taking a few minutes to recover, he opened the door. Unable to lean out and peer to see if someone was coming, he just blindly went forth, hoping for the best. Axel was closer.

Roxas hesitated, unsure which direction to take, which 'next room over' the redhead resided in. He could only guess, and followed the way that Aerith, Demyx and Zexion had left. He was in pale hospital pyjamas, light cotton that clung to the sweat developing in a wave across his body.

Carefully breathing through his mouth, nose blocked off, swollen out of shape in a distracting manner, he hobbled down the corridor, head down, limbs heavy, swaying slightly with each step. He reached the door of the neighbouring room, paused to regain his breath, again choking, tasting blood, feeling desperation rise and wondering suddenly if he should have just remained where he was and tried to get better faster. After all, no one was going to let him stay. He would have to return to his own bed as soon as they found him here, on the next round of checkups by either the doctor or one of the nurses.

But he _had_ to see Axel. No matter what Zexion had said – and he hadn't said enough to soothe Roxas' fears – he couldn't get the image out of his mind of Axel being driven into the wall. Pinned, butterfly-esque, the blood, the scream he'd given when the silver-haired man had twisted and wrenched the blade back out. He'd never known Axel was capable of such a noise. He had vague, flashing snatches of memory concerning the events after he'd been beaten to a bloody pulp by the man's vicious fists, but nothing concrete, nothing to tell him that Axel was in fact still alive, heart still throbbing away inside the pale chest. Roxas needed to see red.

He opened the door, entered the dimness. It was the right room. There could be no other with that hair, that manner of taking up the bed. There were machines set up around Axel that Roxas didn't recognise, but nothing seemed to be connecting the redhead to life, he didn't need help in that way.

Sucking air, huffing it out again, trying not to move his shoulders too much, trying not to move his neck, he approached the bed. Axel was sleeping deeply, features relaxed, lips parted, the breaths coming slow and even. Roxas smiled waveringly, climbed up, frail and wasting away with every moment. He lay upside down beside the man, no space for them both at the higher end of the single mattress, heart settling at last, mind finding peace. He was careful not to push his feet against Axel's face, back flush against the sheets, the warmth of a leg against his arm. He stared at the ceiling for a few minutes, feeling his body grow further away, numbness stealing back through him like a blanket. A small smile on his face, Roxas drifted away, the sound of Axel's breaths a lullaby.


	26. Chapter 26

**A/N: **Hiiiiii everyone. Very tired. My dog decided last night was a fine time to start eating the clothing I had left on my bedroom floor while I slept. And then promptly throw it all back up by dawn. As a result, I kind of had a broken sleep. As a result of that result, the chapter's later than usual, annnnnnd somewhat lacking. But meh. I'm happy enough. And tired enough to be indifferent about it. :D Yay apathy!

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CHAPTER TWENTY-SIX

Cloud sat in the dry dust under the starry night sky, the knees of his pants filthy, hands smeared with black grease. He had a rag, equally as grubby, that he absently wiped his fingers on as he worked on his bike. His hand hovered over a selection of wrenches laid out across the ground, and for a moment he couldn't remember which one he needed. His mind was blank, thoughts flying far.

"Having trouble?"

His head snapped around, startled, turning to wariness as Zack emerged from the shadows, entering the spill of light coming from the open garden shed the bike lived in. Cloud eyed him for a moment, before picking the correct tool and silently shaking his head. He scooted closer to the machine, inserting his arm behind one wheel and continuing.

"Fenrir broken?" Zack inquired, shifting closer, hands dug into his pockets.

"Tune up," the blond answered shortly.

Zack bobbed his head. "Ah. Right."

For a while, there was just the sound of Cloud's tinkering, the man's face set in concentration, ignoring the soldier behind him. "Nice necklace," Zack commented quietly. Cloud paused, glanced down at the long chain that had slipped from his shirt, the dog-tags weighing it down, swinging with each motion. He grabbed them, tucked them away with a scowl. Zack sighed. "Are we ever going to talk about this?"

Cloud grunted softly. "What's there to talk about?"

The other man eyeballed his hands. "You know, you shouldn't be doing that with those knuckles. You want to get an infection?"

Cloud shrugged. "Maybe," he answered, sounding bored. The muscles in his arm sprang taut as he tightened a bolt. Zack sighed.

"Okay, Spike. I'll bite. What's on your mind? And don't tell me it's nothing."

"It's not enough that two good kids think they were put in hospital because of my ex?" the blond muttered. "Or that the people I was starting to think of as actual friends all hate me now?"

"They don't all hate you, Spike," Zack said patiently. "Yuffie's mad about Wutai, everyone else is surprised, and Leon – well, I don't know the man too well, but I think I can confidently call him an asshole."

Something clanged loudly as Cloud wrenched his arm from the bike's innards. "You know, Zack? You're right," he said curtly. He grabbed the rag, smeared his grease-covered hands uselessly. "You _don't _know Leon well. At all." He got to his feet, walked towards the shed. The black-spiked man smirked, hands moving to his hips.

"I knew it. You like him."

Cloud stopped short, fixed the man with a hard look. "Why are we still soldiers?"

Zack blinked, frowned. "Huh?"

Cloud changed course, came back towards him, a look of intense frustration on his features. "Why does it feel like it's only been one year since the war instead of ten? Damn it, Zack!" He balled up the rag, turned and threw it through the open doorway into the workshop. "Why are we still _soldiers? _There's no war anymore! Hasn't been for a decade! So why the hell was Seph still a general? Why was I a Captain before I ran?" He shoved the man sharply, catching him unawares, sending him staggering back with a startled look. "Why the _hell_ are you still a Lieutenant?"

Zack caught his footing, annoyed. "Because wars don't just _end, _Cloud, you _know _that. The repercussions last longer than the fighting ever will! I'm still a soldier so I can _help _people, Spike – I might not be part of some Committee dedicated to it, but it doesn't mean I haven't rebuilt my share of houses. You've done it, too. Don't let six weeks among these people twist what you were once proud of!"

Cloud's arms dangled by his sides. Tiredly, he said, "Ah, hell, Zack. Pride doesn't last forever. What does it even matter anymore?"

They stared at each other for a long moment. "Is that really how you feel?" the darker man asked quietly. "Or is that just your guilt talking?"

Cloud lowered his head. "You want to know why the war still seems so recent here, Zack? It's because – Hollow Bastion's still rebuilding. And they'll probably be going when we're old and grey. Whatever I once was proud of – it melted when I got here. My pride – it's nothing compared to what these people do." He lifted his gaze slowly, resting briefly on the other man before continuing up to the stars. "Maybe if Sephiroth had felt some of what they've made _me _feel, he wouldn't have… lost himself."

Zack sighed, raised his eyes also, taking in the twinkling vista. "I don't suppose there's any news on who the real attacker was?"

Cloud hesitated. "I don't know. I haven't spoken to anyone all day."

Zack scowled. "Don't hide yourself away, Spike. You know it doesn't work."

He got a grunted response. Then the blond paused, detecting something in the other's tone. He twisted his head minutely to one side. "You're – leaving… aren't you?"

Zack shrugged, smiled faintly. "I've done what I came to do. I'll head down into Hollow Bastion in the morning, say bye to the guys in hospital – after that, yeah, it's back to the Gongaga post for me."

Cloud laughed shortly, bitterly. "Your first leave in three years, and you use it to come tell me my crazy boyfriend's dead."

Zack sobered. "I'm sorry. I didn't mean to ruin things here for you."

The blond ruefully shook his head. "Any problems I've got now are all my own fault."

Zack regarded him with a sad smile. "Sure you won't come with me? There's still a lot to be done in the rest of the world, too – and the people out there don't hate Zanarkand like Hollow Bastion does. You could find a new space for yourself, Spike. You're not running from Seph anymore."

Cloud was quiet for a while. "I feel… pathetic, finding that so tempting. But…" He shook his head slowly, blond spikes shifting back and forth. "If they'll keep me – I – I want to stay."

"What if they won't?" Zack asked softly. Cloud fixed him with a blank look.

"Then, I guess – I – I'll come find you." He dipped his head. "Or – I don't know. I'll find something. Maybe… maybe I could move down to the city… I don't have to be part of the Committee to be able to help."

Zack inclined his head. "That's true." He studied the blond, watched the wide eyes, the way they gazed at nothing, directed to the ground. "But you know I'll take care of you if you want me to. You know you've always got a room with me, Cloud, no matter where I am or what I'm doing." He smiled gently. "You know how much I love you."

Cloud nodded slowly. "I know. I love you too. That's not going to change." A pained expression rippled across his face. "I'm sorry it was you that had to identify the body. I should have been there. I should have – should've at least…"

Zack touched his shoulder, and when the blond turned, pulled him into a hug. "No. It's better this way. I'd rather it was me than you… Seph hurt you enough when he was alive."

Cloud burrowed his forehead into the other man's shoulder. "I wish we knew who hurt the kids."

Zack nodded. "I know. Me too. And you _will _find out." He smiled, tightening his arms around the blond. "And when you do, make sure to send me a note. I'll come to the trial, the execution, anything. That, and I'm damn curious."

Cloud chuckled weakly. "As long as it's not Sephiroth back from the dead, I'll be satisfied."

Zack patted his back. "He's not coming back, Spike. He's gone. You're going to be okay now."

"It's not like he ever _hurt_ me…" the man mumbled. Zack pulled away, gripping his shoulders, face serious.

"There's more than one way to hurt someone, Cloud. Seph's specialty was mental. He didn't need to lay a finger on you to leave scars."

Cloud shrugged. "Well, it is what it is. Or was."

There was a long silence between them, each studying the other. At last, Zack nodded, released him, arms dropping slowly to his sides. "I'll miss you."

"At least this time it isn't _me _leaving," Cloud replied, smiling weakly. Zack snorted.

"There's a first time for everything, right?" He sobered a little, gestured to the other's shirt. "You gonna keep those tags?"

Cloud's expression turned thoughtful, a frown in place. "I don't know. I'll have to think about it, I guess." He hooked them out, ran his thumb over the metal. "They're my last connection to him."

Zack watched him. "You know what I think?" When Cloud didn't respond, he said, "I think you should talk to Leon before you decide anything. About staying or leaving, about the tags, about – about anything. Talk to Leon." He smiled crookedly. "After all, you just all but told me he _isn't _an asshole, despite how much you've been bitching since the second I set foot in this place. Maybe he'll help you decide what to do."

"Help me?" Cloud echoed perplexedly. "How could he possibly help me with that sort of decision?"

Zack rolled his eyes, exhaled sharply. "Honest to God, Spike, sometimes I think you got dropped on your head. I'm not gonna tell you if you're not going to even consider it. Just – go talk to the damn man. Butt heads with him if necessary, but I think he'll…" He smiled. "Yeah. I think he'll help."

Cloud shrugged. "Whatever you say," he muttered. He shifted over to the bike, and started to clean up. After a moment, Zack grinned, and went to help.

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Roxas woke up having his feet kissed, gentle, non-invasive pecks, like maybe Axel didn't want to wake him but couldn't help himself to touch them. A slow smile spread awkwardly over the boy's lumpy face. His toes curled slightly in reaction to the tickling brush, and Axel paused. "Roxie?"

Garbled, swollen jaw and a tooth gone from the back, throat hoarse from all the blood that had graced it, dry from the breathing through the mouth which was constant, "Hi."

Axel's hand was warm on his ankle, drawing up and down gently. "Are you okay?"

Roxas nodded, felt the stab and winced, realised the redhead couldn't see him and replied, "Yeah. You?"

A low chuckle. "Still breathing, aren't I?" Fingertips tapping the bone of his ankle. "What're you doing here?"

"Came to visit," Roxas rasped. "Figured you'd… you'd…" The lightness dropped; he couldn't think of an amusing response, because his brain was screaming the truth too loudly. "I was scared you were dying. I had to come see."

Axel sighed, lay a cheek against the curve of his soft sole. "I'm fine, Rox. I'm just glad that you're okay. That's all that matters to me. That fucking psycho… He half-killed you."

Roxas laughed weakly, coughed. "Exaggerating again. That's what you said the last time he beat me up."

Axel frowned, his long fingers tightening slightly against the teen's skin. "So it really was him in the valley? How do you know?"

"Ah…" Roxas sighed huskily. "The shit he said. It was the same guy."

Axel dropped a kiss on the ball of his foot, tickling unintentionally. "Dem said Vince was heading out after him. Guy used to be an assassin. If anyone can find that fucker, it's him."

"No one else got hurt, did they?" the blond asked nervously. He choked, throat catching, tapering off into a hoarse whisper. He scowled and cursed voicelessly, frustrated by his own uselessness. The pain thumping through every pressure point was exhausting, made him want to curl into a ball and escape, if only there weren't a vivid pyromaniac holding onto his leg, nails scratching gently through the hairs. Axel patted him.

"No, just us. Larx kicked fucking ass, though she didn't fry the guy like I hoped she would. Fucking taser. Then she grabbed you and ran. Sephiroth decided he didn't want to get set on fire and left." He added in a mutter, "I still can't believe no one caught him. It's like he just fucking waltzed out of the place without a care in the world."

Roxas laughed again, an aching noise. "You swear a lot more when you're in pain," he hissed.

"Jesus, listen to you. Hang on." Roxas closed his eyes, heard a clatter, felt the mattress shift, Axel giving a small grunt of what must have been pain. Roxas breathed slowly, taking his own stabs in stride. There was the sound of water pouring. "Can you sit up, Roxie?" Axel asked in a strained tone. Roxas wanted to refuse, tell him there was no way in hell he was sitting after the effort it cost him to get here, the toll it had taken that he had yet to recover from. But the thought of a drink was enchanting. His raw throat begged for it.

He clutched the sheets, brought himself up inch by difficult inch, face contorting, his torso hurting as if all but one rib had been snapped in half. He grunted, nearly in tears by the time he was upright. Axel's expression dropped slowly as Roxas was revealed, growing unemotional. As the blond finally stopped pulling, sagging down into himself, breathing hard through his lips, Axel's fingers tightened around the small plastic yellow cup. Roxas took a moment to catch his breath, gestured for the drink, looked up in confusion when Axel didn't move.

"Axel?" he whispered. Long fingers came out, touched the underside of his chin, tilting his head back a small amount before shifting around to lift the hair from the boy's face.

"Should've burned him," he said at last, so softly it was almost inaudible, "and fuck the consequences. It would've been worth it." He released Roxas, still flat, and passed over the cup. Roxas shook his head weakly, sucked the liquid noisily, felt the coldness travel down through his chest. The redhead took the empty cup and placed it on the nightstand. He opened one arm for Roxas to come into. "Can you stand to lie on your side, Rox?"

The blond looked over dubiously. "I – I don't think I can. It hurts too bad." Axel's expression grew duller.

"You should have stayed in bed. I'm not worth this."

"That's not true," the blond snapped suddenly, voice stronger with the fluid, patience thinner with the pain. "I told you. I had to come make sure you were okay."

"At the detriment of yourself, Roxas," Axel argued. "I'm fine, okay? I might have some splintering and shit going on, but hell, at least it's only around the one shoulder and arm. Your whole fucking body has been pummelled. You might get better quicker than me, but you're sure as hell in a lot more pain right now." They glared at each other for a moment, before the redhead said, "That's it, I'm buzzing the nurse."

"No!" Roxas grabbed him as he went to lean across, fingers closing on the arm belonging to the injured shoulder. Axel fell back instantly, growling, teeth clenched. Roxas gasped, felt dizzy.

"I'm sorry," he mumbled. "I'm sorry, I didn't mean to…"

"It's okay," Axel said tightly, hissing out a slow breath. "Just… the painkiller's wearing off a little… I'm due for another dose." He grabbed a small remote from beside the bed and pushed one of the buttons. Roxas deflated.

"You didn't need to call the nurse. If you really want me to go, I'll go."

"I do, because you're stupid to be walking around," Axel grunted, lying back down, "but that wasn't for the nurse." He grinned crookedly. "What, they didn't give you your own self-medicator? I just push the button, and a fresh dose comes flooding. I guess it's coz they like me better."

"Could be," Roxas agreed. "You're the prettier one, after all."

Axel stared. "You've seen, huh?"

"I can feel it." His fingers came up to gingerly touch the protrusions, Axel flinching.

"Don't. It hurts."

"You can't feel it, dumbass."

"It still hurts, Rox." He sighed, reached out and grabbed one of the hands, curling them together. "Don't," he repeated softly. "What you need right now is a lot of sleep. Stay til the nurse comes, then go with her and promise to be a good boy."

_Your love is a good boy, just like you._

Roxas blinked, swayed a little. "A – a good boy?"

Axel smirked. "You can save the _bad _boy stuff for when we're both better, ne?"

"I – I'm not a bad boy," the blond answered dazedly. "I'm a good boy like you. I don't know _who _the bad boy is."

Axel cocked an eyebrow. "You okay in there, Rox?" His hand disconnected, rose up to gently touch the teen's forehead, again left almost untouched after the man's attack, the focus of the bruising around the cheeks and jaw. "You're kind of warm," he murmured. "Maybe I'll call the nurse after all…"

"No," Roxas breathed, eyes slipping shut. "I'm okay. Just – I feel a little weird. Just… tired out." He frowned as much as his face would allow, tongue catching on the hook of the tooth next to the gap where there had previously been another tooth, the broken splinters removed shortly after he'd been brought in. "Did you say that – did you call the guy by a name? You know who did this to us?"

"To you," said Axel quietly. "It's you he was after. He said his name's Sephiroth. Probably thinks he's clever… naming himself after that guy…"

"Which guy?"

"Nobody. It doesn't matter." He grimaced. "Vincent'll take care of him, I promise. This will never happen to you again, Roxas. I'll do anything to protect you."

"You… you've done more than enough. You got stabbed because of me." He shook his head slowly. "I really hope Vincent _does _get him." He raised his blue eyes, Axel seeing in the dimness that the white of the right one was coloured vivid red, capillaries burst. "I don't think I can stand to see you hurt again."

Axel smiled gently. "We'll both have to train extra hard from now on, then. Make sure the raids don't take us out."

Roxas groaned softly. "That wasn't even a _raid… _Just one guy…"

"One crazy-fast guy," the redhead muttered. "Don't worry, the ones from Zanarkand are cows in comparison. If they bred them like that, the castle would've fallen to them years ago."

There was a brief silence, broken when the nurse entered two minutes later looking flustered. She pressed a hand to her chest, breathed, "Oh, thank goodness." Her eyes narrowed. "It's lucky Miss Gainsborough warned me about you two, otherwise I would have thought you'd simply vanished from the hospital! This is _not _proper behaviour."

"It's okay," said Roxas tiredly. "I'm ready to go now. I'll… I'll be a good boy." The tone in his voice made Axel shoot him a strange look, but the redhead didn't comment. After all, Roxas had suffered some brutal blunt trauma to the head. Who could blame the kid for acting a little different for a while?

"Roxas," he said quietly, tugging carefully at the hem of the blond's shirt. Roxas paused, glanced down. Axel leaned up, kissed him. "That one's to tide you over." He lay back down with a smile. "Thanks for visiting, pain-buddy."

Roxas returned the expression half-heartedly. "Anytime." His brain caught up with his mouth. "Actually, no, fuck it, I'm not doing this again until I can walk properly."

"My thoughts precisely," the nurse bristled. Carefully, belying her tone, she helped him from the bed and led him out, leaving the redhead chuckling.

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Zack entered Roxas' room the next morning with flowers, eyes darting about automatically for a vase. The blond slept. Not disturbing the boy, he went and opened the cupboard beneath the bedside dresser, found a large empty jam jar, pulled it out and filled it with a bottle of water. There was a scary-looking woman at the nurse's station down the hall that he didn't feel like disturbing to ask where the bathroom was. So the drinking water worked out nicely.

He sat the flower stems in, arranged them for a minute, trying to bring out their best side while automatically thinking of Aerith with a small smile, and placed the jar quietly on the dresser. He stood back to admire his work, eyes drifting over to the sleeping teen. He stepped closer, flinching visibly away from the damage, eyebrows knitting together. The kind of brutality it would have taken to pull something like this off sickened him.

He found Demyx's discarded newspaper from the day before, sat down in Zexion's old chair, and started reading through the front pages. At length, it was the rustle of the paper that caught Roxas' attention, brought his mind curiously out of its floating state, eyes flickering open sleepily. For a moment, he was confused, didn't recognise the man that had come to visit. "Hi," he said uncertainly, sounding slightly better for wear than he had the previous night. He closed his eyes tightly, reached up slowly to rub them, ignoring the stinging. "What time is it?" he mumbled.

Zack smiled. "Does it matter when you're in here?" He checked his wristwatch nevertheless. "It's nearly midday, kid."

Roxas' newly opened eyes focused on the device with a scowl. "I hate those things."

Zack blinked blankly. "Watches?"

"Watches," the blond agreed in a mutter. "Nagging motherfuckers."

"…Okay, then." He raised his eyebrows, amused, as Roxas turned slowly, a frown forming, seeing the flowers out of the corner of his eye. He stared for a moment. The man was compelled to explain, "Aerith sent them with me. She can't visit til later this afternoon, so she wanted me to set you up. Not allergic, are you? She forgets sometimes that people can be…"

"No." Roxas shook his head, bewildered. His gaze fell upon the man again, and an identity clicked. "Zack." He rubbed his right eye a second time, an irritated sensation building up within it. "How – how come you're here?"

The man leaned his elbows on his knees, shrugged, smiling. "I wanted to make sure you were okay. I've heard about you and all these little mishaps that keep happening."

Roxas snorted. "Little. Right."

Zack's smile grew strained. He tapped his fingertips together. "I also wanted to let you know that the guy that did this isn't who he said he was. I know you're from the Twilight network, so you don't know much of the local history yet, but the guy's pretending to be a general of the Zanarkand army. The _real _general is actually dead."

Roxas attempted to absorb this wedge of information. "So, uh…" He squeezed his eyes shut. "Does anyone actually know who _did _do it? Who the person really is?"

Zack shrugged. "Vincent's been tracking him, that's all I know. All yesterday and last night. No one knows who he really is though. All we've got is the physical description and the fact he's claiming to be Sephiroth."

"I thought at first that he was Riku," Roxas said hollowly. "I was so… shocked when he stabbed Axel like that… but then I realised."

Zack nodded slowly. "An easy mistake to make. It's not like there's a whole heap of guys out there with silver hair like that…" He leaned forward slightly, one eye squinted. "You don't think it _was _Riku, do you…?"

Roxas blinked. "No. Of course not. We'd have recognised him."

Zack sighed. "Yeah, you're right. Don't mind me, kid, just anxious to find a culprit." He grimaced, bent his head, scraped his nails through his hair. "Well, I can't stay long, Roxas, sorry to just drop in and shoot off. I just – yeah. I just wanted to set you straight, I guess." He stood, folding up the paper, leaving it on the chair, and folded his arms, looking down with concern. "Are you doing okay?"

Roxas snuffed a little laugh. "Nice time to ask… Yeah, I'm okay. Just – really sleepy. They keep waking me up to make me drink enough fluid."

"No I.V.?"

"They're worried about concussion… Won't let me fall asleep for more than two hours at a time…"

Zack was sympathetic. "Ouch. No fair, huh?" He scowled briefly. "Whoever it was that did this to you, I really hope they find him, Roxas. Not just to beat the crap out of him for hurting you guys, but so he can be put away where he won't hurt anyone else. This is all just sick."

"Telling me," the blond sighed, slumber once again sucking him back.

"Hey, before you fall asleep, I'll say bye, okay?" the man said softly. Roxas nodded.

"Okay. Bye. Coming back?"

"Uh – no. I'm heading back to my post." He smiled, flipped his collar. "Duty calls, and all that. I did what I came to do."

Roxas forced his eyes back open, frowning. "Oh. Well… it was nice meeting you. And… thanks for visiting me."

Zack winked. "No problem, kid. Take good care of momma Aerith, okay? And Cloud. Don't let him take himself too seriously."

"Uh… Well, I'll – try?"

The man chuckled. "Honestly? With those two, that's the best anyone can hope for." He sketched a wave. "Enjoy the flowers. You won't be alone for long, Roxas. Until the next time I come visiting, take care, okay? No more getting beat up!"

Roxas would have rolled his eyes, if he'd known it wouldn't hurt. "Yes, sir."

Zack exited the room with a final smile, the sound of his boots fading down the hall.

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Cloud sat in the dining hall, after everyone had vacated. Even Larxene with her taser and screwdriver had left, either for sleep or a shift in monitoring Twilight Town or patrolling the castle. He sat in a metal chair at the Committee's regular table, the long necklace that once belonged to Sephiroth, identified him, woven between his fingers. His clear blue eyes were blank, fixed upon the shiny metal, flipping the tags back and forth, listening to the clink. Every now and then he'd pause, taking the tags between his fingers, feeling the coolness, the smoothness, thumbnail trailing slowly over the engravings.

Upon hearing the news, almost twenty-four hours ago now, he'd had no tears. Only… shock. And hopelessness. He'd tried so hard to stay, but in the end… In the end, Cloud had left, and Sephiroth had died. Those hands, at times gentle, other times rough, sometimes belonging to a killer… they would never move, never accentuate, never touch him again. It was over. Everything, that entire section of his life, was gone, blown away.

A coffee mug was placed on the table in front of him, loud in the silence, startling him from his reverie. Cloud glanced up, froze, shut down. He drew his eyes back down, flat and empty, all previous thoughts and emotions wiped from their shining surface. Leon turned the cup so that the handle faced him, took the chair beside him, movements heavy. A long silence developed. Cloud continued to play with the tags, while Leon slouched back in his seat, twisting his mug between his palms, frowning into the black depths of caffeine. At last, it was he who broke the contest of who could outlast the other. He was tired, of many, many things. "I'd have thought you'd be gone by now," he said carelessly. "Didn't Zack leave this morning?"

Cloud wound the beaded silver chain of the necklace around his knuckles, over the splits from the previous morning, tugging tight and relishing the pain. "I didn't want to go."

Leon raised an eyebrow, ever so slightly. "I can't imagine why not. After all, wasn't Sephiroth the whole reason you came here in the first place?" He sipped his drink. "Good idea, by the way. Hiding in neutral territory. He'd have been too scared to stick his nose around here."

"He wouldn't," Cloud said sharply. "He wasn't scared of anything this world had to offer." He took a breath, set his face carefully, yanked the chain harder, felt the splits begin to reopen. Leon watched dully.

"Why are you hurting yourself?"

"Because the physical pain distracts me from the shit going on inside," the blond muttered, giving another harsh pull. "Funny how the second you turn up, I get the urge to start bleeding."

Leon snorted. "You do this often?"

Cloud paused, twisted his head to give an irritated look. "What, punch windows and break open the scabs?" he asked sarcastically. "No, actually, I don't. Congratulations, you've inspired me in two minutes to do what the last two _years_ with Sephiroth couldn't."

The brunet shrugged. "I try."

For a moment, Cloud wasn't sure what he meant. Try as in, make an effort to get on with him? Or try as in, do his damndest to be the biggest jerk-off he possibly could be? He sent the man an uncertain look, slowing in his activity. Leon didn't meet his gaze, but gestured his head towards the mug he'd placed down. "I got that for you, you know. It's not my backup."

Cloud blinked at him, at the coffee. He reached out, the chain still wrapped tight around his skin, pinching at the scabs, clinking when it touched the porcelain. He curled his fingers around the warmth, frowning, drew the mug up and took a mouthful. He swallowed, muttered, "You made it how I like it."

"One doesn't get to be the head of the Committee only by memorising one's colleagues' shoe sizes."

Cloud let out an unexpected laugh, startling the both of them. They stared at each other for a moment in surprise, before breaking off back into their own sullen little spaces. Cloud tapped his nails against the cup. Leon settled his elbows over the back of his chair, gazing over at the dark, reflecting windows banking the far wall. "So," he said casually, after another several minutes, "out of curiosity – why _are _you still here?"

Cloud scowled. "Look, if you want me to leave, just say so. Don't pussy-foot around it. I'm not in the mood."

"When have I ever pussy-footed around anything?" Leon asked, eyes rising. "If I wanted you gone, I wouldn't be sitting here talking to you. I wouldn't have got you a coffee, that's for damn sure."

"You might have spat in it," Cloud theorised. He glanced over with a faint smile, in time to catch Leon's eyes rolling. The smile died quickly. He placed his mug down on the table, hunched forward, elbows on the metal surface, slowly removing the chain. When it had come to its full length again, leaving numerous indentations in the blond's flesh, he laid it out, smoothing it straight, arranging the tags one on top of the other.

"How come Zack left without you?" Leon asked emotionlessly. "He seemed pretty fired-up to take you and Aerith away forever yesterday morning."

Cloud sighed, eyes narrowing down at the necklace. "That's Zack for you. Big brother extraordinaire. He takes it upon himself to look after me, whether I need it or not." He turned his head slightly, adding over his shoulder, "He didn't mean any harm by it. He was just looking out for me." He shrugged. "To be honest, I think he was feeling guilty after telling me about Seph. You guys gave him a nice outlet for his anger."

"So that's it?" the brunet asked sceptically. "He told you what happened, and now he's left?"

"I don't mind," replied Cloud quietly. "I don't need him holding my hand. I can handle myself."

Leon watched him for a while, before nodding slowly. "So, you want to remain with the Committee, then? Is that why you stayed?"

Cloud glanced back, held the man's gaze. "If – if I still can. I'd like to. It's… nice to – make a difference… You know?"

Leon cleared his throat, pulled his chair further in. He put his mug down next to Cloud's, turned it until the handle was facing the same way, until they looked identical aside from the black level within. "You can stay," he said carefully, not looking at the man, "on one condition. And – you're not allowed to argue about it. No matter what. It's this, or you're gone."

Cloud sat up a little straighter, blinking, brow creased in worry, a little trepidation, some suspicion. "What kind of condition?"

Leon took a deep breath, swung his eyes up, locked them on Cloud's. For a long moment, neither man spoke, just studied one another, neither flicking away, neither backing down. Before the risk grew too great for it to turn into a staring contest, their regular battle of wills, Leon quickly said, "You're not allowed to accuse me of accusing you of stealing anymore."

Cloud closed his eyes briefly, blond brows shooting high. When he opened them, Leon was watching him closely. "But – you _do _think – "

"You want me to throw you out on your ass here and now?" the brunet demanded. "Because, damn it, if you say it just _once more, _you're out of the team. We can't function if we don't trust one another."

Cloud scowled. _"Do _you trust me?"

"The question, actually, is do _you _trust _me?" _the man responded mildly. "You're the only one with issues around here. Except for maybe Yuffie," he conceded, "that'll take some work before she accepts you again."

"But…" Cloud's brows were drawn in consternation. "You mean – you _don't_ think I stole that stuff? Even though it all started disappearing just after I arrived?"

Leon sighed. "Let me see." He tapped his coffee mug with an index finger. "You and your bike, with half a tonne of wooden struts, putting along – that would draw attention. You and your bike, with an emergency generator strapped on the back – that would draw attention. You disappearing for unaccountable periods of time, not telling anyone where you'd been – that would be suspicious." He levelled Cloud with a dry look. "Have you _done _any of the above? During your lunch breaks, maybe? While you paused to tie your shoe and we all went ahead that one time?"

"No need to be a wise-ass," the blond muttered. Leon shook his head, faintly frustrated.

"The point I'm trying to make is, there's absolutely _no reason _for me to suspect you. Not even a little bit. Not even for a second."

Cloud looked down at the necklace, features drawn into a deep frown. Then, very suddenly, he let out a laugh. "Out of all the things you should be asking me right now… All you want to know is if I trust you? Enough to believe that you trust _me?"_

"That's the proviso," Leon agreed. "Without trust, we've got nothing, Cloud."

The blond shot him a sour look. "We've got nothing anyway."

The first time either of them had acknowledged the vague emotions between them, and Leon chose to ignore it. "Then no, you can't stay." He shrugged simply. "Trust me, or fuck off."

"You know, I already talked to Zack about this," the blond said lightly. "I could always just move down the hill and work with Hollow Bastion directly."

Leon pursed his lips, stuck an elbow on the table, faced Cloud directly, a flat expression in place. "Do you want to stay, or not?"

Cloud flicked his eyes away, fingers fiddling with the metal beads of the necklace. He shrugged one shoulder. "I think it's obvious that I do."

"_Can _you trust me? Or is there something about me that just blocks you off?"

The blond shot him an irritated look. "Look, it's – it's not you. Yes. Okay? I have trust issues. That's… It's totally me. I have this – this guilty conscience thing going on. It's hard to kick. It's a habit."

Leon thought this over, staring hard. "Alright," he said at last. "I've got a proposition for you." He checked for Cloud's receptivity. "I want you to realise that no one thinks anything bad about you." There was a pause. He added, "That's it."

An eyebrow quirked. "What – that's _it _that's it?" Cloud rolled his eyes. "I'm not _that _bad. I just… I feel like if I were you, and you were me, I'd be pointing at you every time I entered the room. I'd be sneaking questions into casual conversations. That sort of thing. Try to catch you off-guard."

"And there's where trust comes into it," Leon replied, amused. "I trust you until you prove me to be an idiot for doing so. I give that benefit to all members of the Committee. You're no different."

Cloud sucked in a breath, smiled wryly. "I'm no different, huh? Even though I'm still technically a soldier of Zanarkand? Even though the guy that attacked Axel and Roxas is claiming to be my ex, who was the one that destroyed Wutai and helped demolish parts of Hollow Bastion during campaigns?"

Leon shrugged. "Does any of that make a difference to whether or not you're a worthwhile part of the Committee?"

Cloud's smile hovered. "No. I guess it doesn't."

"Do you accept that no one thinks anything bad of you? Barring Yuffie."

Cloud hesitated, flipped mentally through each member of the group, was forced to reluctantly nod. "I suppose… they don't, do they? Even – even you."

"Even me," Leon agreed calmly. Cloud fidgeted.

"So – who _do _you think is taking stuff?"

The man shook his head. "No clue. Cid's been coming up with some ideas for tracking the guy, but it all relies pretty heavily on the thief taking a certain thing… Making it too good to resist… I don't know." He sighed, drained his coffee cup. "Basically, I don't care right now. It's too late, and for once I don't have a whole heap of papers to work through. I just came to see why you were still around, and now I know." He pushed back, stood, tugged the short hem of his jacket around his waist. "You should get to bed sometime soon."

Cloud nodded, attention drifting back to Sephiroth's tags. A finger stretched out, touched the metal, slightly coloured now by his blood. Leon paused, looked down at him for a long minute. "I'm sorry," he said softly. "For your loss." He nodded to the tags as Cloud glanced up in surprise. "It can't be easy for you. I hope… it gets better."

Cloud swallowed, nodded. "I'm okay. Really. But – thanks."

Leon shrugged slightly, grunted, "Hn. Whatever," throwing them back into their known roles, easing whatever tension had grown between them during the conversation.

He left the hall, never feeling Cloud's small, genuine smile on his back.


	27. Chapter 27

**A/N: **Aw, man. I am so sorry, you guys, for both this chapter and the wait. Same old excuses – tired/not feeling well still. Couple that with the fact that these are the BORING IN BETWEEN CHAPTERS and I suddenly find myself struggling. Still, I know – 'health before writing'. I'll say, "Yes, mother" now, and get it out of the way :P I do appreciate the concern, though X3 Yucky chapter, though :(

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CHAPTER TWENTY-SEVEN

Roxas lay carefully on his side on the bed, Axel's arm lightly around his waist, leaning carefully on the redhead's uninjured shoulder. Axel's fingers stroked the skin of his hip lightly, green eyes open and staring at the ceiling, while Roxas' blue were closed, his nose pressed into the man's neck. Silence breathed between them, sunlight streaming in through the window, rich and late.

"Did you get your script filled?" Axel asked at last, voice soft. Roxas grunted slightly.

"Aerith's doing it."

"Ah."

The blond sighed, scowled. "I don't want to leave you here by yourself. I don't see why they won't let me stay."

Axel smiled a little. "It's because sitting day and night in hospital is boring and painful enough for those with full health, let alone those who've been battered and need lots of rest and Aerith's mothering."

He dug his nose into the redhead's uninjured shoulder. "I don't care. I don't want to just leave you here. This place is shit."

"Ah, it's not so bad. I get meals brought to me in bed, after all," Axel pointed out. "Aerith _never _does that. Some mom _she_ is."

A throat was cleared, an amused voice saying, "I heard that, Axel." Aerith approached the bed. "And I _have _brought you breakfast in bed before, the last time you stumbled home drunk and couldn't get up."

"Yeah, well – that was a long time ago," the man replied, faintly uncomfortable. He squirmed slightly under Roxas' weight. The blond pushed up slowly, gave a small smirk of understanding. Aerith, a paper bag in hand, crossed her wrists over her skirt and sighed.

"Well, Roxas, it's time to go. We've got a ride up to the castle with the florist." She beamed. "Such a nice man. He was the one you saw at the castle the other day – Marluxia. He gives such wonderful advice on cultivation."

Axel laughed suddenly. "Hah! Roxie has to ride home with the pink-haired perv."

Roxas' head swivelled. "Perv?"

"Axel!" Aerith was indignant. "Marluxia is certainly not a pervert! What a thing to say." She said to Roxas, "Don't listen to him. He's just being mean."

The redhead rolled his eyes. "Just 'cause he's good with plants…"

"Why _do _you think he's a pervert?" Roxas asked suspiciously. Aerith folded her arms, lifted her chin.

"Yes, why?"

Axel chuckled, patted Roxas' cheek lightly. "You don't want to know the details." He leaned close to the boy's ear and whispered, "Just watch your ass – and I do mean literally."

Roxas raised an eyebrow, while Aerith huffed. "Axel, you really are the limit."

The man pouted. "I know, mommy. I'll be good."

Roxas frowned, climbed abruptly from the bed, leaving Axel blinking. "We should get going I guess," he muttered. Aerith nodded.

"I'll meet you in the hall." She fixed Axel with a stern look. "You behave yourself. Stop flirting with the nurses. You've got half the young girls swooning."

"But at least I'm not flirting with the guys," Axel pointed out.

"For that, you're lucky," Roxas said dryly. Axel grinned, and Aerith left the room to allow them time to say good-bye. As the door shut, Axel's smile faded a little.

"Are you okay, Rox?" In response to the blank look he received, he added, "You still seem – a little out of it."

Roxas shook his head. "I'm fine. Really." He sighed, glanced around. "I have to admit, it'll be nice to get…" He stopped, a startled look appearing on his face. Axel frowned, sat up slightly.

"Rox?"

Roxas blinked, laughed lightly. "No, it's – I was just about to call the castle home."

Axel eyed him uncertainly. "Is that a good thing?"

Roxas raised his eyebrows, took a breath. "Yeah. I think it is." He smiled. "At least it means I can relax when I get there."

Axel nodded slowly, looking pleased. "And I'll be back before you know it. Just…" His expression fell into worry. "Stay close to people. All the time. Don't go anywhere where you could get – grabbed."

Roxas shook his head. "It's been five days, Axel. No one's seen him."

Vincent had come to see them on their third day in hospital, cloak more ragged than Roxas remembered, to apologise for his failure in tracking down the mysterious attacker. He had assured Roxas, however, that the man was long gone, at least for the moment. Axel hadn't been pleased, and still hadn't recovered from the disappointment.

"I don't care how long it's been," he said sharply. "It's bad enough that I have to let you go back without me – just please, promise you'll be smart about this. Please be safe."

Roxas frowned unhappily. "Okay, fine. Way to freak me out. I promise to spend all my time expecting the guy to come leaping out from every corner, how does that sound?"

"Paranoid and perfect." Axel reached for him, tugged him close, wrapping his good arm gently around the boy's waist. "I love you, Rox. I don't want to see you hurt again."

"I know," the blond sighed. He leaned in for a brief kiss. "I'll – I'll be good. I won't be stupid about it, even if I want to."

"There's my Roxie," Axel murmured with a smile. "Reluctantly clever."

They drew apart, weary affection on each face. Aerith tapped discreetly from outside. Roxas turned, grimaced, gave Axel one last kiss. "I'll come see you if they'll let me, okay?"

"And if not – see you in a couple days," the redhead replied softly. "I really do love you, you know."

"I know," Roxas breathed. He stepped back, gave a smile, heart tugging. "I'll be seeing you."

"Later, Rox." The pair parted, door closing to leave Axel alone. Roxas met Aerith out in the hall, smiled thinly, feeling all the scabs stretch. She returned the expression compassionately.

"You ready to go now?" Roxas nodded. The woman hooked her arm through his, patting his fingers, and together they left the hospital.

-------

Despite Axel's warnings, the pink-haired man didn't try anything on Roxas' ass. Possibly because of the state of his face. Gazing out the window during the short drive, watching the plumes of dust billow up from the wheels, he found himself catching glimpses of the damage in the reflection against the glass. Up til now, he'd avoided mirrors. In the bathroom, he'd kept his face averted, not wanting to see the sickening contusions brought into reality. It was bad enough that they existed – he didn't want to have to look at himself, the reminder of that terrifying night, that voice in his ear, the madness filling the corridor simply with his presence.

Roxas cursed himself – if he'd been smart enough to realise that it hadn't been Riku that night, Axel could have at least had a chance to fight back. And Roxas – he wasn't the best fighter with his keyblades, but the two of them against the one man, with no physical disadvantage as far as wounds were concerned, and they might have been able to turn that fight into a completely different scenario.

He sighed, scowling, shifting his focus deliberately past the likeness, studying the passing rocks and edges, the white van working along the narrow trail and up to the castle. Aerith and the man chatted happily about this kind of fertiliser compared to that, the photosynthetic advantages of this particular creeper over another. Occasionally, Roxas caught sight of the man's eyes on him in the mirror, flicking instantly away the instant he glanced up.

In the hospital he'd been fine, Axel hadn't acted like anything was different, but out here it seemed he was suddenly a freak-show. He dreaded the reaction of the other techies, the members of the Committee. He feared Yuffie most of all – who knew what kind of damage would be caused from her rage alone? This was the first time he'd be seeing most of them since five days previously.

Before long, the van pulled to a stop a little way from the castle entrance. The side door was slid open for him, and he stepped out onto the packed dirt, breathing the dry air with something akin to relief. This place – it was definitely feeling like home. A great barrier in his heart broke down, muscles relaxing for the first time in days. Axel might not have been here, but he wasn't far off, and he _would _be soon enough. And then… everything would be okay again.

…Again, again.

It was late afternoon by this point. The sun was beginning its descent beyond the mountains, the breezes growing cooler almost from one minute to the next. Roxas took several steps away from the van, ascending the shallow ramp leading from the dust to the path up to the castle. He leaned against the low barrier keeping people from simply tumbling down and away into the mist, and gazed out at the increasingly golden-amber world. He felt the ease in breathing return, like it had been before so many ribs had been cracked or bruised. He felt like… like someone was opening their arms, and welcoming him back. It was as if, at any moment… his mom would come out of the kitchen, bringing some fresh scent with her, and – and ask how his day had been. Yes – _that _was what it felt like. It felt like… like mom.

"Roxas? Are you okay?" Aerith approached, head tilted curiously. Behind her, over by the van, Marluxia was pulling various pots out of the back, settling them with a thump onto the ground. Roxas turned, smiling slightly. "Yeah, Aerith. I'm good. Just… admiring the sunset."

"You should head in," she said softly. "We don't want you catching cold. It's not long until dinner – how about you lie down for a while? I can send someone to come get you."

Roxas nodded slowly, eyes drifting back to the landscape. "Sure. That sounds fine…"

He sighed, pulling the mountain air deep into his lungs, ignoring the pinch that the motion brought, and dug his hands into his pockets, heading inside. He traversed the long corridors, encountering no one, footsteps echoing. It seemed strange being back here – as if no time had passed at all. As if he could turn around and see Axel and himself wandering down the hall with their weapons. He felt time, the futility of wishing it backwards. The air was filled with strands, and if only he could reach out and touch one, drag on it, he could reverse the actions of that night, could warn them all before any of it occurred… But they were too intangible to catch.

He entered the room quietly, peering about at the neat interior that hadn't previously existed. Aerith had been in their absence, had left her domestic stamp. Roxas was pleased, however, that the faint smell of cigar smoke continued to linger. Somehow, that scent had become an embodiment of Axel.

Any tension that had risen since arriving, the odd, swimming thoughts that had been floating in and out of his mind, all faded, replaced with longing, an ache of loneliness. He shifted to the bed, climbed onto his hands and knees and lowered himself down to the sheets. They were cool, and clean, smelling of linen and soap. Roxas closed his eyes and inhaled. Now all he needed was for Axel to complete the picture, and he would be content.

Right now, the redhead was lying in his bed in the white room in hospital, all alone except for the nurses that insisted on popping in and out – especially, as Aerith had pointed out, the younger ones. It amused Roxas more than anything else, this reaction that people had to Axel. He could see how so many could have been drawn to him during his phase of sleeping-around. He wouldn't have had a shortage of potential partners, that was for sure… and now he was happy with – just Roxas? That was… weird. And flattering. And… weird. He'd spent all that time sleeping with different people, just imagining it was…?

Roxas blushed, sinking into the covers, face burying into the pillow, bruises aching. Once again, he found himself appreciating Axel's restraint. He couldn't imagine being fixated like that, and then the instant everything came good, reverting instantly to – well, basically normal. Axel had spent literally years pining after Roxas, but all he seemed to want was for the blond to be happy and get settled in. Naturally, Axel was interested in Roxas sticking around for the long-haul, so making him comfortable was an obvious tactic to achieve that end, but… Roxas still found it difficult to comprehend. Add to that the constant, ever-present love that the redhead not only _claimed _to feel, but that Roxas was quite certain he _did, _and…he was – overwhelmed, to say the least.

This was the first time in a while that he'd had time to step away from Axel, knowing that there was distance between them, knowing that he wouldn't see him at mealtimes, in the halls, not even a chance encounter. And he missed him. He missed the fact that, anytime he wanted him around, the redhead would be there. He missed that, until Axel came home – and this _was _home, there was nowhere else to go, nowhere else to be – there would be no warm arm around his shoulder, no whispers in his ear. It startled him, the depth of the loss, even knowing that Axel would be back in a few days.

Roxas shifted carefully around onto his back, the most comfortable, painless position he knew of, and gaped at the ceiling for a while. He – well, he'd been aware of his growing feelings for the man. He wasn't dense, or in denial. But – he hadn't really… _felt _it until now. Hadn't felt just – how _important _Axel was. And this… Wow. This was more than friendship.

He reached up, rubbed a thumb into his sore eye, yet to recover, still stained pink. Like Aerith said, he should rest. Until someone came to get him for dinner. There was nothing he needed to do, no one he needed to see… Roxas was tired, his thoughts, his emotions wearing him out. There was a dull little ache filling Axel's place in his heart, and the only way to escape was to sleep. Roxas closed his eyes, let go, and felt himself leave the room, piece by piece.

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Roxas woke, and found himself in the sand. Sunset had come and gone, leaving the playground swathed, drowning in darkness. He sat up sharply, without pain, without hindrance. His fingers dug deep into the whiteness, the gritty feeling sliding across his palms. He looked around slowly.

She stood by the jungle gym, wearing white gloves, white dress to the ground, white veil covering all, even her hair. She just… stood there.

Roxas got up, brushed his hands on his pants, felt the many particles of dirt drop back to their ocean. He approached her, feet sinking, clumsy. She didn't react to the quiet shuffle of his shoes, just stared straight ahead behind her coverings. Roxas' face fell into a frown. She could have been a statue, if the wind didn't always insist on blowing her garments around, giving an eerie sense of life to something that looked, and should have rightfully been, dead.

Roxas halted several feet away, hands in his pockets, shoulders hunched over. He watched her, and waited for her to speak. To move, even. Just a turn of the head would have been nice, an acknowledgement. At last, he grew frustrated.

"Mom, where'd the kids go? Why don't the ghosts come back anymore? Why is it night-time?"

A rustling of fabric, a low sigh. It was as if his words brought her to life. _"Time passes, Roxas. Faster than we'd like it to. I'm starting to understand this."_

"Why are we here, mom?" he asked softly. "Can't we just go home? It's cold."

A hollow, brittle laugh. _"Yes, it is, isn't it? But mother cannot leave. Mother is trapped here, and only Roxas and the ghosts may visit. The bad boy has made it so."_

"What bad boy, mom?" Roxas asked, confused. "I know _I'm _a good boy, and Axel… but who's the _bad _boy?"

"_The bad boy is making mother sick… The bad boy is changing Roxas, even though he doesn't realise." _She paused, lifted her head, touched Roxas' shoulder, and with a resounding grind, a deafening clatter, the jungle gym disintegrated, became a skeletal pile on the ground. _"Mother cannot leave. But Roxas will save her – mother has seen it." _She tilted her neck, obscured face pointing at the sky, the dark, pin-hole filled abyss. _"Roxas will rise, and break the bones, and flee to mother… He will rescue her, because… she has seen it." _Silence in the playground, the cool wind whipping. _"Mother has seen it. I – have seen it." _She turned to him, at last, laying a smooth gloved hand on his cheek. _"Don't cry, Roxas. Mother knows you will protect her. It is built inside you to do so… You have no choice in the matter… even if you wanted to."_

"Don't – cry?" Roxas reached up to feel his dry cheeks. "I'm crying?"

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Roxas opened his eyes to darkness, flickering light, huddled into a corner. He was trembling, and weeping, mewling thinly for his mother. His knees were drawn up to his chest, ribs afire with the pain of the position. He suddenly stopped, inhaling sharply, grunting in agony. The tears became something new, something conscious. "Oh, fuck. Oh, fuck, I can't move."

"Roxas?" A low voice, intent. A face in the gloom, lit up morbidly with the darting illumination. Roxas blinked in confusion, the salt of his tears stinging, clinging to his eyelashes.

"V-Vaan?" He reached up to smear his blurred vision, voice cracking and jumping. "What's going on? Wh-where am I?"

"Wh – where _are _you?" The other boy was bewildered. He laid his hands gently on Roxas' biceps. "I don't know where you're hurt. Am I touching anything bad?"

Roxas shook his head, sniffing, baffled. "No, my arms are fine, but my – my ribs are really bad. I can't unfold my legs. It hurts too bad."

"Shit," Vaan muttered. His hands slipped away, he sat back on his heels and rubbed the heel of his palm against his forehead. "Look, it's going to be okay. Naminé went to get Aerith."

Roxas, eyes growing used to the dimness, glanced quickly around, heart pounding. "I'm – in the computer room?" He went cold. "I didn't try to break anything, did I?" His blood turned to ice, breath hitching in panic. "Oh, my God, I didn't hurt Naminé, did I?"

"No – no, you're fine." Vaan sighed, almost irritated. "Are you telling me you don't remember coming here? You don't remember anything?" He shook his head, white-blond hair swirling momentarily. "Look, let's just get you up. The longer you stay bunched up like that, the harder it's gonna be to get you out of it…" He reached forward, trying to unhook Roxas' trembling, clawed fingers from around his calves. "Just – just let go," Vaan said softly. "It's okay now. You can let go."

Roxas, not even aware he was clinging, forced his body to relax. His muscles screamed at him, the pain thumping worse than ever, making it hard to breathe properly. He couldn't pull in a decent lungful. He coughed weakly. Vaan glanced up, sensing his growing distress. "You don't know what you were doing here?" he asked quietly. Roxas shook his head, jaw clenching automatically, flinching a moment later.

"I – I was just lying down in my – in Axel's room, like Aerith told me. She was going to get someone to grab me for dinner. I was – I was just sleeping."

"You were sleeping?" He loosened Roxas' arms, placed them gently by his sides. He paused. "Wait, _dinner?" _An eyebrow hiked up. "Uh, Roxas, dinner was a while ago."

"It – what?" His expression was blank. Vaan shook his head.

"Aerith's gonna be pissed," he muttered. He sat back, stood, held his hands down for Roxas to take, and slowly, cautiously, pulled the blond to his feet. Roxas hissed through his teeth. "I'll save the explanation for when she gets here," the other teen said wearily. He led Roxas over to the main chair, lowered him carefully down. There were still cracks in the plastic around the newly installed keyboard, and the screen had a fine spider's web splitting one corner. It had already been so many days, but the echoes of Roxas' brief, mindless madness lingered still.

Vaan backed up, sat down in the smaller chair, the bludgeoning one, and propped an elbow on a blank spot between controls. He drove his fingertips into the corners of his eyes and exhaled heavily. "Any ideas what happened here?"

"I… I sleep-walk," Roxas muttered. "That's what Axel thinks, anyway." He looked around, sighed, took his head in his hands. "I'm getting sick of this."

"Happens often?"

Roxas shook his head slowly. "I don't think so. But – I don't know. I'm sick of it anyway. I just – " He closed his eyes to the flickering of the screen, shutting out the ache it brought. "I wish Axel was here," he mumbled. Vaan nodded slowly.

"I've been here for a while, you know," he said. "I'm another one that didn't go into Twilight Town. My friend, Penelo – she and her family took me in. My brother – he died protecting Hollow Bastion. I've been a techie for a few years now, and I've seen Axel go crazy because of you." As Roxas' face jerked up, he hurried to add, "Not that I'm blaming you. The point I'm trying to make here is, you know, I guess I just want to let you know I think it's cool you guys are together now. He wasted a lot of time on you, and it's good to see it wasn't just in vain."

Roxas fixed him with an uncertain look. "Uh, thanks. Yeah. Me, too. I think so… too."

Vaan cocked his head to the side. "They're coming. I can hear them."

Roxas sat up, turning his head to face the door, and moments later Aerith entered, followed closely by Naminé and –

"DiZ." Vaan's voice was flat, expression changing instantly to a hard mask. The golden-eyed man, arms folded behind his back, studied the white-blond teen for a moment, before transferring his gaze over to where Aerith worried over Roxas, Naminé hanging uneasily behind her.

"Roxas, where have you _been?" _the flower-woman asked anxiously, crouching beside him, holding the sides of his face gently. "You've been crying! Oh, what's happened?"

Roxas tugged free, shaking his head. "It's – I'm okay, Aerith, really."

"He was sitting in the corner, crying and calling for his mother," Vaan stated dully. All eyes turned towards him. Roxas scowled.

"I was sleep-walking again. I've done it before."

"You have?" DiZ entered the conversation. "When?"

Roxas squirmed with discomfort. "Oh, ah, the day before the night that me and Axel were attacked. It – uh – really wasn't a big deal. I just woke up a few hours later than I'd meant to somewhere… different."

"How different?" Aerith frowned. Roxas closed his eyes, fought back the blush.

"Just on the wrong side of the room, okay? It's – it's never happened like _this."_

"And you were – calling for your _mother, _you say?" DiZ prompted, sounding curious. "Surely you know by now that she is dead."

Roxas shot him an irritated look, lifting his head slightly. "Yeah, thanks for your sensitivity. I'm pretty aware that she's dead. Don't blame me for having a subconscious that isn't ready to accept it."

Vaan snorted, got to his feet. "Kid, DiZ and sensitivity don't belong together. Forget about it." He walked over towards the door, was paused by a hand on his chest.

"Where do you think you're going? Your shift isn't finished yet," the bandaged man said quietly. Vaan tugged back, an insolent smile in place.

"I'm not feeling well. I figured I'd get going before I infect poor Roxas any further."

DiZ's eyes narrowed. His hand snapped back to his body, tucking behind his back. "Continue on, then," he growled. His eyes left the blond, focusing on Roxas as if Vaan had already left the room.

"Hope you feel better, Roxas," was his final parting, still an impudent tone to his voice, obviously directed at DiZ. Roxas frowned, watching the miniature show of hostility unfold, while Naminé built up the courage to join Aerith in the mothering. She knelt down carefully, delicate mouth down-turned, eyebrows drawn together. She touched Roxas' arm, capturing his attention. "Are you feeling okay now? You don't look upset anymore…"

Roxas shook his head, frowning. "That was – I was sleeping, Nam. That wasn't really me."

Aerith glared. "Why didn't you tell me this was happening, Roxas? Who knows where you might have ended up."

Roxas leaned forward, elbows on the edge of the controls, eyes skating unhappily over the remains of the damage. "I didn't think it was going to happen again. I didn't – I haven't thought about it at _all _since that day. And it didn't happen while I was in hospital at all… and it only happened the one time, really…"

"It sounds close to the state you found yourself in while experiencing your first viewing," DiZ commented. "Your lack of memory, of control. It is unusual, to say the least. I find it particularly interesting that you were drawn _here."_

"Why?" Roxas demanded, suddenly frustrated. "I don't think it sounds weird at all. Some part of me wanted my mom, and the last freaking place I saw her was inside _your _goddamn fake town. I'd have thought this was the _natural _place to expect me to come."

"…Perhaps," the man conceded, not pursuing the matter. He turned to Aerith. "Take Roxas to his room, and make sure his night time routine is calm and properly executed. In order to fight this, we must find ways to both keep him occupied and yet relaxed. Do whatever you feel will work. I leave him in your capable hands, Aerith."

She nodded, smiled thinly, waited until he left, then turned back to Roxas with a frown. "How are you feeling _now?_ That's a terrible thing to have happen, Roxas."

The blond shrugged. "I'm okay. Really. I've dealt with that whole my-mom-is-dead thing already. It's not like I don't have people to commiserate with."

"Roxas…" Naminé continued to look concerned. "Maybe you don't understand how serious this is. You weren't – normal. You were… rocking. And crying real loud. You wouldn't let either Vaan or I even _touch _you. In the end, that's why I had to go find Aerith…"

"And I was already busy looking for you," the woman sighed. "I sent Demyx along at dinner time, but of course…" She shrugged. "I ran into DiZ. He's been wanting to talk to you, but I suppose he's saving it for another time." Her forehead creased, hand coming up to brush the hair from his face. "Maybe when you're feeling better."

"I feel fine," said Roxas tersely. "Really. I wish everyone would just leave me alone. I'm being good, aren't I?"

Aerith faltered, drew back, stood. "Are you alright to stand?"

"I'm fine to stand." Roxas fought hard not to snap at the woman, overcome with a sudden and irrational annoyance. He didn't need to be taken care of, after all. He didn't to be – _mothered. _He got up, the females stepping back a little at the boil of aggression that curled from his skin. He turned to look at them sharply, and subsided. The curling anger left as abruptly as it had risen. Roxas reached up to scratch his head. "Is it okay if I get something to eat first?"

Aerith blinked, smiled, hands clasping at her skirt. "Of course. Come on, I'll fix you something."

Naminé sighed, glancing around the room. "I guess I'll finish my shift alone. I doubt Vaan will be back. He gets into these moods, and there's nothing you can do. He goes missing for _hours _sometimes…" She shook her head. "Maybe I'll call Kairi," she mumbled. "Wake her up. She can come help." She blinked. "Oh, Roxas!" She turned to him. "Kairi wanted to talk to you, too. She did for a couple days before the attack. How about I get her to come get you in the morning? I noticed you'd been rostered on for a sit-in…"

"A sit-in?"

"Yeah, you know, just kind of what I'm doing now." She smiled, flopping down onto the large chair, patted its arms. "The art of sitting and making sure nothing explodes."

"Oh, uh…" Roxas nodded cautiously. "I can do that. Sure."

She smiled sweetly. "Great. I'll tell her."

Roxas left with Aerith, feeling heavy-limbed and tired. He rubbed his bruised face, willing himself to wake up a little more. His eyes itched from crying. "You know, Roxas," said Aerith quietly as they walked, "if there's anything you need to talk about, I'll always listen. I know people view me as a sort of mother-figure, but I want you to know that I'm not trying to replace anyone in your heart. You don't need to see me as a maternal presence if you don't want. We can just be friends." She smiled gently. "Friends help each other, right?"

Roxas frowned, hands sliding into his pockets as they wandered down the corridors towards the dining hall. "I know. I don't think you're trying to replace my mom anyway, Aerith. But there's nothing for me to talk about. I just…" He broke off, ran a hand through his hair. "I just wish Axel was here," he sighed. Aerith nodded.

"I understand. We'll do our best to keep you occupied until he gets back, okay?"

Roxas agreed wearily. They entered the dining hall, found Leon and Cloud at the far table. Aerith gave the blond a light shove in their direction. Bracing himself for the reaction to his visage, he approached. Hearing his steps, the two men glanced up, low-voiced conversation ceasing. For a moment, their gazes froze on him. None of the Committee had come to visit in hospital… in fact, not many people did at all. Naminé had, Sora had, Demyx and Zexion had, and Larxene had checked in once, slipping a bottle of vodka to Roxas, a packet of cigarettes to Axel, both of which were confiscated by the nurse… but in essence, not many members of the castle had ventured down.

Cloud was the first to speak. "Roxas. I'm sorry about what happened to you."

Roxas nodded slowly. "It's okay. I just wish they'd find the guy who did it."

"Vincent tried," Leon said. "He lost him in the mountains."

"Yeah. I heard." Roxas shifted from one leg to the next. "Mind if I sit with you guys?"

Eyebrows rising, Cloud reached out with his foot, nudged the chair opposite. Roxas grabbed it, pulled it out.

"You know, Yuffie's going to go nuts when she sees you," the blond informed him casually. Roxas smiled as he sat.

"I thought she might."

"Hurts still?" Leon asked shortly. Roxas hesitated.

"I've got some medication from the hospital." The brunet nodded calmly.

"Make sure to keep taking it."

"Yeah." Silence developed, easy to endure since Roxas didn't feel like talking anyway. The good thing about having Leon and Cloud as the first to see him was that there were no histrionics. However Yuffie might have behaved last time, when he'd been hurt in the valley, he was sure she wasn't going to take this latest attack lying down. Of course, there was nothing she could do about it, but he knew there'd be a fuss. He lay his arms on the table, lowered his face to the cool surface, finding relief from the throbbing a little, closing his eyes. So much for not sleeping. He'd wanted to never have to again, and that very same night he was knocked unconscious, and had done little more than sleep ever since. And now… Now it was starting again. The moment he was left alone, his body was taking over from his mind. No matter what Axel had said the first time, Roxas still found it unnerving.

He wondered if he should attempt staying awake. It had its appeal, that was for sure… Waking up, crying for his mother? His mom? God, she was dead. Axel had taken him to her _grave. _And hell, if he was going to start going nuts about that, why not include his dad while he was at it? It's not like he'd loved him any less… well, the illusion of him, at least. Why wasn't he crying for his dad as well? Why… why did the thought of his mother chill him so badly? The thought of sitting in the corner of that room, rocking…

Aerith came with his food, a hastily prepared arrangement, and a cup of warm milk that she forced him to drink first. "It'll help you sleep more soundly," she said, not wanting to go into the details with the two stoic men listening. Roxas merely nodded, and drank. If he could just find a way to keep from walking around, the thought of sleep wouldn't be a problem anymore.

After the meal, Roxas bid goodnight to the two men, and Aerith walked him back to Axel's room. She looked tired – Roxas figured it had been a while since she'd had any decent sleep herself. She entered the room first, tutted briefly, sent him off to take a shower while she remade the bed. As Roxas stood under the hot water, the room empty except for the rolling steam, he couldn't help but miss Axel all over again. He wanted to slap himself for thinking about the redhead in here, but memories clung where memories clung.

At last, dressed freshly, hair damp, he padded on bare feet back to Axel's room. Aerith… she actually tucked him in. She – she peeled back the blankets, and when he climbed in, she tugged them up again, and tucked the corners in around his frame. Her green eyes were worried, despite the small smile she wore for him. Roxas just lay there and watched her. She stepped back, smoothing down the covers one last time, and glanced around.

"Is it okay if I lock the door tonight, Roxas?" Her gaze found him, concerned. "From the outside, I mean. Just to make sure nothing happens." Roxas blinked, frowned, started to sit up. "I know it seems – a little extreme, maybe," she said quickly, hands up and placating, "but I worry. I promised Axel I'd take good care of you. Until we can stop this sleep-walking for good, until we _know _it's over with…" She shook her head, brown braid swinging. "That man is still out there, Roxas. He got in once, and I don't care what everyone says – he might do it again."

"Great bedtime story," Roxas commented wryly. "Did you and Axel collaborate, or what?"

She grimaced. "I don't mean to frighten you… I trust you, you know that. Axel and I both trust you to take care of yourself. But there are parts of the castle accessible from outside, which aren't watched as closely, and when you don't even know what you're doing…" She left the sentence to hang in the air between them, Roxas' expression shifting slowly into a frown.

"You're right." He settled back down, nodded briefly. "Okay. Lock me in. I'm – I don't want to wake up somewhere different again. It's getting weird."

She smiled gratefully. "Alright then. I'll do that. I'll be back in the morning, in time for breakfast." She went to the door, opened it, switched off the overhead light so that the illumination from the hallway flooded in like a buttery wave through the darkness. "Sleep tight, Roxas. Take care."

The door was shut. Roxas carefully reached up, slipping his hands under his head, staring at the ceiling. Sleep tight? Apprehension filled him. He'd be fine. He'd already done it once tonight – no need for it to happen a second time, right? Weird freak-out quota had been filled. Yet, some part of him still felt nervous. He closed his eyes, let out a slow breath.

"There's nothing to worry about," he whispered aloud. "Just think of Axel, and you'll sleep fine."

Fall asleep he did. And wake up a second time in the playground, he did also.


	28. Chapter 28

**A/N: **Okay, up and running. From now on, these two-day updates are going to become habit – it's awfully, awfully nice to not have to get ten pages written each day. Gives me more time to think things through, too – much of this chapter came to me last night, long after I would have ordinarily finished and posted it. So, much happiness! Less stress, always a good thing :P

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CHAPTER TWENTY-EIGHT

"_This place is not safe anymore. He will find me. Follow me, Roxas. Follow mother. She will show you where to go."_

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Leon and Cloud were on their fourth cup of coffee, table spread with papers, the many inventory notices from the past weeks, and even months. They trawled through them, one by one, tracing the various missing materials in an attempt to find a pattern, perhaps a trail leading to the culprit. The dining hall was quiet, the shuffling of paper the only sound, the clearing of throats, the low noise of porcelain touching down on metal. They sat side by side, pens and pencils littering the tabletop, a scribble here, a circle there, piles made and then pulled apart by a separate set of hands seeking the same answers.

Leon grabbed a sheaf resting by Cloud's elbow, started shuffling through. The blond glanced up from his own work, stared blankly for a moment. "I just did those."

Leon paused, glanced down at them. "I can't see anything on them."

"I did it light. Look closer."

Leon squinted. "How – how fucking light did you do it? How am I supposed to know what's been taken, and what's been left?"

Cloud was irritated. "I did it like that so that when I double check, there's no mistakes. I was _going _to do it darker the second time around. It's _called _being _thorough. _But now you've messed it all up." He tossed down his pen, leaned back and crossed his arms with a huff. His hand snaked forward a moment later, snatched up his mug and peered inside. "I need more fucking coffee," he mumbled.

"Right, because Cloud on _more _caffeine is just what we need," the brunet muttered. He slid his own cup over. "Get me one, too."

Cloud jumped up, went over to the kitchen wall, filled their cups from the pot, added sugar. He gazed moodily over at the windows, the darkness held at bay, the stars blotted out by the brightness of indoors. "No wonder you didn't think it was me," he called, stirring hard, spoon clanking the sides of the cup. "It looks like it was done by fucking – fucking squirrels or something."

"Thus the term 'squirreling away'…" the deep voice rumbled back. Cloud snorted, tapped the teaspoon on the edge of the mug, carefully, wiping away any drips. He carried both drinks back to the table, stifling a yawn, rubbing his eye with his wrist while trying not to spill. Leon glanced up, grunted his thanks as Cloud placed it in his hand, turned his eyes back down to his work. Cloud sat, stretched his legs out straight, breathed deeply, and closed his eyes. He slid down a little to get more comfortable, the hot mug clasped between his hands, perched upon his chest, steam rising up and smelling richly. Leon flicked a look over.

"You know, you don't have to stick around if you're tired. Go to bed."

Cloud shook his head without shifting his position. "Nah. I'm just resting a little til the caffeine kicks in again."

"You have no obligation to do this," the other man reminded him, setting his mug down, turning slightly in his chair. "You know by now that no one holds you responsible."

"So? That doesn't mean I don't care." Without opening his eyes, Cloud manoeuvred the coffee up to his lips, took a searing sip. He hissed lightly, lips pulling back from his teeth, and settled the cup back down. "I want to help. I want to know who's doing it."

Leon studied him openly, unafraid while the blond's eyes were shut. "I guess it's okay then," he murmured. "Just as long as you're not doing it for the wrong reasons."

Cloud sighed. "I'm tired of doing things for wrong reasons, Leon." The blue eyes flashed open, directed at the ceiling, Leon darting his gaze away before he got caught. "I spent a lot of time doing things for the wrong reasons, and, funnily enough, they always got me to the wrong places…"

"Like ending up with Sephiroth?"

Cloud stilled, expression slackening. There was a beat of silence. Then, softly, dully, "What makes you think he was wrong in my life?" Leon's eyes narrowed slightly.

"Maybe the fact that you ran away. Not to mention some of the things that Zack said..."

Cloud scowled, still staring at the roof. "What did Zack say?"

"What does it matter, as long as it was true? You think Zack would lie about something like this?"

Cloud turned sullen. "I don't know. Zack gets weird sometimes. Thinks things are funny that – "

"I assure you, he wasn't being funny," Leon said curtly. Cloud huffed.

"What do you want me to say, Leon? I'm _not _going to put Sephiroth in the 'wrong reasons' category. He deserves better than that."

"Why? Because he's dead?" Leon raised an eyebrow. "What if he was still alive, Cloud? Would you call your relationship with him a _right _thing?"

"What the _hell _gives you the right to ask me a question like that?" Cloud snapped, sitting up sharply, head swinging down, eyes becoming glaring slits. His coffee sloshed, sending a burning wave of black out over his pants. A tight second passed, then Cloud was up and swearing, holding his mug high in one hand while the other brushed his thigh frantically. _"Motherfucker! _Damn it, Leon! Now look what you did!"

"I didn't do anything," the brunet said mildly. "You're the one that spilled coffee all over yourself."

Cloud paused, glared fiercely. "Only because you were being such an _ass! _God, what the _hell _do you think you're doing?"

"What, I can't ask a simple question?"

Cloud blinked, laughed with shrill incredulity. _"Simple?" _He glowered suddenly. "You have no idea what my relationship with Sephiroth was like, no matter what Zack might have said. You had no _right _to ask me that."

"I'm a friend, aren't I?" Leon countered. "This is bothering you. I've seen you playing with that necklace when you think no one's looking. I'm just trying to find some answers."

"Answers that don't belong to you, Leon," Cloud seethed. "Like you said, you're my _friend. _Those sorts of answers _don't _belong to _friends."_

"Who, then? If I was your boyfriend would you tell me?"

"Sure! Why not!" Cloud threw up his free hand, stalked away from the table, over to the sink to slam the mug down and snatch up a cloth. He lifted one leg, leaning against the counter as he roughly scrubbed at his wet thigh. "Thing is, Leon, you and I _aren't _boyfriends, so hey, that solves _that _dilemma!"

"So you're saying, if you and I were together, you'd – "

"Leon." Cloud snapped his gaze over to the man, cold. "You're missing one vital flaw in that reasoning. _You're not my boyfriend. _So you can't ask those questions. It's no concern of yours what was going through my head when I was with Seph, or whether anything's changed now that he's dead. You don't know _anything _about that period of my life." He straightened, threw the cloth back, left his cup where it sat. "And hey, guess what? That's not going to change." He stomped across the room, heading for the door, while Leon sat back at the table, staring at the page in front of him. He frowned, pulled his chair in, and picked up his pen, as Cloud reached the doorway. When the footsteps didn't continue, didn't fade down the hall, Leon glanced up again.

Cloud was gripping the doorframe, head stuck out into the corridor. He hovered there for a moment, before pulling back, looking around at Leon with a bewildered look. "I just saw Roxas go by – didn't Aerith say she'd locked him in Axel's room?"

Leon paused, nodded slowly. "Yeah. She did." He got up, walked to meet Cloud at the door. He stepped out into the corridor, just as Vincent came floating past, cloak silently twitching in his wake, footsteps hushed and graceful. He barely glanced at Leon. "He sleep-walks," the thin man said quietly, without pausing. "I want to see where it takes him."

Leon and Cloud met gazes, equally baffled. "Uh – should we come, too?" Cloud called softly after him.

"It would be best if you didn't. You're too heavy."

Cloud's eyebrows sprang together indignantly, turning with a frown to Leon, who had to fight to keep the smirk from his face. When the blond's expression became sullen, he said, "Well, you do wear large boots."

"He meant you too," Cloud hissed. Leon shrugged. They both watched until the sleep-walker and his watcher disappeared. "How did he even get out, I wonder?" Cloud's fingers drummed the doorframe thoughtfully. "I'll go check to make sure everything's okay, I think…"

Leon's hand caught his elbow, halting him. Remembering his previous ire, Cloud turned on him, mouth thin. "Is there a problem, Leon?"

"Vincent said not to follow," the brunet answered calmly. Cloud's eyes narrowed.

"I'm aware of that. I wasn't going to follow them. I was going to check out Axel's room. I want to know how Roxas got out."

"Maybe Aerith forgot to lock," Leon suggested.

"I doubt that," the blond replied shortly. "She was too worried to forget a thing like that. Now, if you don't _mind." _He jerked his arm free, stepped out into the corridor. "I'm going to check on Axel's room, then go to bed."

Leon frowned. "Wait. I'll come with you."

Cloud sighed, started walking without waiting for the other man. "I don't need a babysitter."

"Who said I was babysitting? I'm curious, too."

Cloud shot him a sceptical look, but made no further objections. They went side-by-side, following the hallways to Axel's room, neither saying a word. Their boots, as Vincent would have feared, clomped loudly, both men too heavy for light motion outside of a battleground. "I apologise," said Leon suddenly. Cloud hesitated, glanced over, faintly suspicious.

"For what?"

Leon was quiet for a moment. "For being intrusive. I never meant to upset you. I wasn't aware that I was overstepping my bounds."

Cloud snorted. "Yes, you were."

Leon blinked, then nodded. "You're right. I was aware of it." He tilted his head to one side. "I guess I just wanted some answers. It'd be nice to see you happy for once."

Cloud's step faltered, eyes darting to the brunet and away. "I – I'm happy enough."

Leon shook his head. "Not enough for my liking. I saw a glimpse of it when Zack first arrived, and I liked it. It was nice to see you… unburdened, for once. I hadn't even realised how bad you were until that moment."

Cloud's expression drew into a slow frown. "Why is it… that when you say things… you sound like the leader of the Restoration Committee?" At Leon's questioning look, he clarified, "It's like you're trying to talk to me as a friend, but all I can hear is – this order to be happy. You want me to be happy, but it's like you want to force it out of me."

"Of course I do." Cloud blinked. "I'd squeeze it out of you if I could, if I had to. I don't need your permission in the matter. But," he shrugged, "since it's your choice in the end, there's not much I can do in the way of non-consent. I just have to wait around for it to happen."

Cloud laughed a little. "You'd wait around, would you? Waiting for me to cheer up."

Leon dipped his head in affirmation. "I would. I'd wait. I'm waiting."

The blond shook his head, scratching it briefly. "That's… not what I was expecting from you," he confessed.

"What were you expecting?" Leon asked mildly, curiously. Cloud was silent for several steps.

"Sephiroth," he said, truthfully. Leon frowned sharply.

"Excuse me?"

"I was expecting you to – be like Sephiroth." Cloud's gaze became distant. "He _would _have forced it out of me. The answers, the happiness… He'd have kept chipping away until… until there was nothing left. No resistance. He'd have kept going until… until he won."

Leon processed this, nodding slightly. He said, "It's not a competition, Cloud. I'm not asking you this stuff in order to know everything about you. I'm not trying to lay you bare." He gave a small, rare smile. "I was just interested. I guess I'll just have to respect your silence. Sounds like it'll be a novelty for you."

Cloud's eyebrows lifted, and for once, he didn't take offence. "Yeah," he said softly. "Maybe." He smiled faintly, as they reached their destination. "I have to admit, it's been nice, finding some – independence these last few weeks."

Leon's expression softened. "I'm sure that it – "

They stopped. Stared. The words curled up and died inside of Leon's mouth, crumbling away, mind suddenly blank. Cloud's lips parted, eyes wide, eyebrows knitted. He stepped forward slowly, leaving Leon standing with his shock, and ran a hand slowly over the doorframe to Axel's room. It was – splintered. Scratched. Hacked. Shattered in places. He turned his head, meeting Leon's gaze. "What the hell happened here?"

The brunet shifted cautiously to the doorway, laying a hand on the other side of the frame, and together they peered in. Cloud was the first to move, entering carefully. Leon grabbed his shoulder, making him glance back with a frown. The man's fingers tightened momentarily, before releasing. Cloud continued, Leon close behind.

The room was a wreck. The bedclothes were shredded, the wardrobe ruptured, spines of wood stabbing out from gaping holes. A keyblade jutted out from the wall beside the door, driven deep. "Holy freaking shit, Leon," Cloud breathed. "What did that kid _do?"_

The brunet was inspecting the door. "Looks like he just – split through the lock. Look at the damage here…"

Cloud's eyes were fixed on the handle of the keyblade. "He's psychotic…"

"He's never displayed this sort of behaviour before…" Leon swung around. "Didn't Vincent say he was – "

"Sleep-walking!" They stared at each other. "He did this while he was asleep? He's _asleep?" _

"Cloud," Leon murmured, tossing his head slightly, "look."

The blond twisted. On the far wall, illuminated by the wedge of light that had spread with Leon's prodding at the door, lay a message. The second keyblade lay discarded on the bed, the writing device. A dust of wood and stone coated the sheets. Carved above them, two words: _Follow mother._

They stared for a long minute, neither saying a word. Then, quietly, Cloud said, "I sure hope Vincent knows what he's doing."

-------

When Roxas opened his eyes to the playground, he found himself alone. No mother, no red-haired or blond ghosts rushing around – but then, it was night, after all. All the little phantoms would be tucked up in their ectoplasm beds by now.

Roxas sighed. He looked around at the disintegrated equipment, and thought he could almost hear the squeak of hinges from the rusty swing-set. He wandered over, feet sliding through the sand, the chill of darkness settling in his bones. There was no one sitting in either of the swings. They weren't even moving. But somehow, he was sure that they would be… or should be… or _something… _This place was beginning to look familiar, but… Roxas couldn't figure out why everything felt so… wrong.

"_Roxas."_

He turned, surprised, as she simply walked into existence, drifting in from beyond the playground's limits. Roxas couldn't see her legs moving, or her feet. He was sure that, under that long white dress, under all those obscuring layers, mother's bones had constructed themselves back to what they once had been. A skeleton had come to visit.

"Mom?"

She halted in front of him, a hand reaching out, glove shining in the moonlight. _"This place is not safe anymore. He will find me. Follow me, Roxas. Follow mother. She will show you where to go."_

Roxas eyed the appendage uncertainly. "Where are we going, mom?"

"_Mother will show you where to go."_

The blond looked up, staring hard at the veil, the unmoving white veil, beyond which her face was supposed to lie. Her fingers stretched a little farther, urging him to take hold.

"_Be a good boy, Roxas. Take mother's hand." _Roxas hesitated, then extended his arm, clasped her hand. Her grip tightened instantly. _"Follow mother."_

She turned, Roxas coming to her side, and hand in hand, they crossed the playground. "Who will find you?"

"_The bad boy sickens us. The playground is no longer sacred for mother."_

"Tell me who he is," Roxas commanded, turning to her with a frown, the sand passing under his feet. "I can help you if you tell me."

"_It is not allowed. Hush now. We are leaving. He will find us if we are loud."_

Roxas' mouth snapped shut, bewilderment coursing through his veins. He was cold, and worried. Someone was trying to hurt his mom? Why? Who would hurt her bones? Why couldn't she just – rest in peace?

Why couldn't she leave him alone?

Her fingertips dug into his knuckles, as if the thought had been heard. Roxas winced, hurried to keep pace with her, her gliding steps. The ends of her clothing fluttered behind her. They exited the playground, stepping out onto the footpath, and the sensation of familiarity deepened. Roxas' breaths quickened, eyebrow drawing low as he glanced around.

"Where's Axel?" he muttered. "Axel's supposed to be here."

She didn't respond, tugged him along. They passed deep into the city.

-------

Roxas' bare feet padded along the hallways, jeans slung low, t-shirt rumpled, hitched up slightly at his armpits. His hair was a mess, fingers dotted with splinters of wood, with blisters. His step was staggering, loose, wobbling from side to side in an exaggerated, jerky fashion. Occasionally, he would slump against the wall, as if tired out, and mumble to himself. Vincent stayed at a cautious distance, the words inaudible, though his curiosity urged him closer. He remained where he was, not wanting to disturb the boy any further than he was.

Roxas was heading towards the castle's outer limits, a section that, to the man's knowledge, the teen hadn't seen yet. However, despite this, despite his obvious handicaps, despite the shaky, aimless wandering, Roxas was steadily making his way towards the upper levels. Vincent followed softly, hands by his sides, eyes fixed upon the drunkenly swaggering back. At one point, the blond lurched, slammed into the wall, fists pounding once, hard, slurring, _"Where's – Axel? I want – Axel!"_

Vincent halted, cloak swinging at his ankles, waiting and watching. Roxas muttered for a minute, sometimes louder, sometimes barely breathing the words out. At last, he pushed back up, swaying, and continued on. Vincent resumed his vigil, feet tapping quietly.

Roxas found a balcony, fumbled with the locks on the door, forehead knocking into the glass rhythmically, making it shudder. Eventually, his slumbering consciousness figured the latches out, and the door swung open, letting in a gust of frigid air. Roxas stumbled out, fell straight into the tall rail, wrapped his hands around the stone and stretched up onto his toes, leaning out dangerously. His eyes squinted, mouth hanging open. Vincent shifted to stand alongside him, slightly out of the boy's line of vision, ready to grab him if he tipped over. Roxas' head tilted from one side to the other.

"I can't _see _it," he snarled, each word slipping into the next. "I'm not up _high _enough. I can't _see. _I can't _seeee." _He twisted from side to side, head dropping down onto the rail, hitting it hard without care. Roxas' mouth curled up. "Fuck. Fuck. Ffffuck." He let out a sharp sigh, pushed back from the rail, wheeled around and peered up at the sky. Humming thoughtfully, the boy nodded. "Up. Up. Higher."

-------

Roxas' footsteps were loud, his breaths, his heartbeat. They were the only signs of life in the entire city. Everything was deserted. "Mom, where are we _going?"_

She didn't reply. He stumbled slightly, rubbed his head with his free hand. "I don't feel so good," he breathed suddenly. He dropped to one knee, his other hand continuing forward, jerked painfully at the shoulder. He let out a low cry, catching himself before he could fall face-first onto the pavement.

"_Roxas must hurry. The bad boy sees us."_

"Mom," the blond snapped, "who _is _the bad boy?"

"_Mother cannot tell Roxas. Roxas has to rise." _She pulled him sharply. _"Get up, Roxas!"_

He gave a grunt, hissed through his teeth, brought one knee up and pushed off from it, clambering heavily to his feet. She was already walking again, his hand released, drifting ahead. Roxas shook his head in frustration, followed after her. "How many times do I have to ask where we're going?"

"_Roxas must follow mother. No more questions. Roxas will obey his mother."_

Roxas hung his head, did as she said, too tired to keep arguing, too sick, tired and sore. A hot flush was creeping up from his chest, crawling through his neck, curling around his ears and spreading spider's webs through his face and eyes. He reached up to touch his eyelids, walking blindly for a moment while he pressed lightly, trying to take away the burn. "Mom, I don't feel well."

-------

They sat upon the lower roof, high above the world, the chasm surrounding the castle dropping away on almost every side, a gaping mouth running like a moat. The wind was stronger up here, both the blond spikes and the long dark tresses blowing back, Vincent's cape swirling slowly, snapping every now and again. The sky was black, the stars burning. The castle's lone weathervane creaked nearby.

Roxas sat quietly, hands on his knees, legs drawn up, staring fixedly down at the collection of lights that was Hollow Bastion. He shivered uncontrollably, skin like ice, though beads of sweat induced from the climb continued to trickle down his skin. Silence reigned, ticking by, minute by minute. Roxas' mumbling, his ceaseless motion, his jittering, subconscious frustration, all had subsided, leaving him like stone, trembling rock, gazing at the city as if waiting for the answer to life's greatest mysteries.

Vincent inhaled, felt the chilly air enter his chest, amber eyes shifting slowly across the horizon. He closed his eyes briefly, turned to face the blond teen, opened them and studied him curiously. Roxas didn't twitch. Didn't fidget. Barely blinked.

"Do you like the view?" Vincent asked, voice a low, quiet rumble, a knife through the stillness. Roxas didn't react, breathed slowly, waited and watched. "Roxas?"

"I watch for mother." Quick, breathless. Eyes shivered slightly from side to side, then settled, refocusing on the distant point of twinkling lights.

Vincent's eyebrows rose fractionally. At last, some kind of response. The first sign the boy had given of knowing that the thin man was even there. His interest renewed, he asked, "Why?"

"The bad boy sickens us." Each word tumbling quietly into the next, the slur gone, a sense of concentration to him. "The playground is no longer sacred for mother."

"Who is your mother?" Vincent knew the boy's history, had learned about him from the others and the computer. He knew that Roxas was an orphan taken in by DiZ as part of the Twilight Children program, and that the boy was also aware of this fact. There was no mother to watch for.

The boy didn't reply this time. "Roxas, are you listening?" This sleep-walking was intriguing. Never before had the dark-haired man come across such intensity in subconscious form. He wondered what it was that he was looking for, in this darkest back corner of his troubled mind. "Roxas?"

Softly, the boy urged, "Ssh." A finger rose to the blond's lips, pressing briefly in emphasis. "She is speaking." He stood slowly, Vincent rising also, eyes narrowing, hands ready again to keep the teen from plummeting. He wondered, not for the first time, if perhaps he should have cut this performance short at its beginning, upon seeing the boy come bursting dazedly out of his room, pausing only to draw back and stab his weapon hard into the wall.

Roxas peered down, swaying back and forth. "I can't see it from here."

Vincent decided to call a halt to this. He reached out, wrapping his metal fingers with gentle force around the boy's arm. "Roxas. It's time to go in."

"I can't _see."_

Vincent stepped close, took hold of the boy's chin with his other hand, twisted his head to face him, the blue eyes distant and glazed. Vincent was surprised he could see anything at all. He looked a million miles away. "Roxas, it's time to wake up."

Looking directly at the man, the blond said, "Mother, who is the bad boy?"

Vincent frowned. Roxas was caught deeply inside this web. Perhaps his best option would be to remove him by force. Carry him, conscious or otherwise. Considering the unpredictability of his behaviour, the man was counting on the latter.

He released the boy's face, snapped his gloved fingers sharply, giving him a sharp shake to try and clear away the fog. "Roxas. Wake up."

-------

Roxas was huddled on the side of the road, rocking slowly back and forth, tears leaking silently down the sides of his burning face. His knees were curled up to his chest, shoulder digging into the dirt, gasping for air. His eyes were scrunched shut, teeth bared in quiet agony.

"_Roxas. You have to get up. You have to follow."_

His jaw clenched tighter, fingers digging in. The heat was overwhelming, the world turning white at the edges, sweat drenching every pore, every inch of his body. Small pinpricks of light exploded and fell away in front of his eyes, and all he wanted was for her to bend and hold him, and tell him he was going to feel better soon. Instead she stood, motionless, several feet away, waiting impatiently.

"_Follow mother."_

"I'm – _trying," _the boy croaked. "But I – feel – _sick, _mom."

"_Mother understands. Mother also feels it, creeping, creeping. Creeping through us, twisting. But mother cannot stay, and neither can Roxas."_

"Mom, I _can't. _I can't stand up."

She appeared suddenly beside him, claws wrapping around the back of his skull, yanking him to his feet. Roxas gasped in pain, eyes flying wide. Her fingertips dug into his scalp, piercing just ever so slightly. Her veil was only inches away, frightening the boy, whatever curiosity he'd harboured for what lay beyond it withering as he cowered. He didn't want to know. "I'm sorry," he said quickly. "I'm sorry, mom. I – I'll try to be good."

"…_Roxas is always good." _She loosened her hold, stepped back slightly. _"Follow me. I will show you where to go."_

Roxas nodded reluctantly, took a step after her, and found himself on the roof staring into the face of Vincent Valentine.

He took a deep breath, and screamed. Startled, Vincent jerked back, eyes widening. His other hand came around to grip the boy, keeping him steady on the narrow peak of the section of roofing. _"Where's mother?" _the boy shrieked, before falling suddenly silent. He swayed in the wind, hands reaching up to clamp onto Vincent's wrists, terror in his eyes. His head twisted to the side, and he whimpered, legs weakening sharply. He buckled, was caught by the taciturn man. "Where am I?" he mewled, close to tears, breaths hard and shallow. "What the _fuck _is going on?"

"Just keep calm," Vincent advised quietly. "I'll get you down."

"Oh, my God," Roxas moaned, realising abruptly where he was. "Oh, man."

Vincent shifted closer, wrapping an arm carefully around the blond's waist. "Are you afraid of heights?"

Roxas laughed quickly, a hysterical noise. "No! I spent my entire life eating ice cream on the clock tower!"

Vincent stared steadily for a moment. "Are you awake now, Roxas?"

Roxas hitched in a breath, buried his face into the man's shoulder. Vincent could feel him shaking, from the intense cold, the fear. "I did it again? Oh, man, I want Axel right now. Yes, I'm awake."

Vincent nodded, tightened his arms around the teen. "Just hold on to me. I'll get you down from here."

"How did I get _up?" _the blond asked, voice cracking. Vincent chose not to answer, picked Roxas up so that his toes dangled towards the ground. Roxas tensed. "Wa-wa-wait, how're we getting down?"

Vincent launched himself from the thick tiles. Roxas' ankles met each other at the man's back, legs whipping around to clamp, fingers digging deep, gasping quickly, without sound, as they seemed to fly through the air. He could hear the man's steady heartbeat, the rustle of his scarlet cloak. Only seconds passed as they descended from the roof to the balcony, but Roxas died a thousand small deaths. A heavy jolt, Vincent landing gracefully, bending his knees, trying to accept Roxas' momentum as well as his own, ankles twisting, lowering sharply. He let Roxas bump the ground, and gently let go, waited for the boy to realise he was safe. Roxas continued to cling, blue eyes impossibly wide.

"You can let go now," he said in his low voice. "It's safe."

Roxas let out a single, dry sob, and unlatched all limbs at once, dropping them to the floor. Vincent, suddenly lighter, straightened slowly, eyes never leaving the boy. Roxas' eyes turned up, stared at the sky, lips twitching, panting. Vincent smoothed himself down, then offered a hand out. Roxas saw it, stared for a second.

"It's okay," the man reassured quietly. "I'll take you to the dining hall. We'll get you some coffee. Leon and Cloud were there not long ago – there will be some already made up. You don't need to go back to sleep yet."

Roxas closed his eyes, jaw clenching. He inhaled brokenly. "My ribs – really hurt. Everything hurts."

Vincent was momentarily surprised, before realising that yes, despite the boy's earlier acrobatics, he was still injured. As if the bruises weren't reminder enough. He nodded slowly, reached down and hooked his hands carefully under the teen's arms. Together, they got him up to standing, where he hung heavily in the man's arms, head low.

"I'm so sick of this," he said faintly. "I just – I just want to _sleep."_

Vincent waited until he could hold himself steady, kept an arm around him, not trusting the boy to not simply collapse after the first two steps. He was still shaking badly, the physical stress taking its toll.

Vincent pretended not to see, as Roxas surreptitiously wiped away one glinting tear after another.


	29. Chapter 29

**A/N: **Okay, this is point where we all wave to Water as we pass by. Twenty-nine chapters, and no end quite in sight? Sheesh. Apologies to anyone I didn't end up getting back to with the last reviews – with FFnet acting up, I lost track of some of the PM's. So any questions I seemed to blatantly ignore, ask again, and I promise I'll reply :D To those who've expressed curiosity over how much longer TU's going to stretch, I can't honestly answer – these days, I have no idea how many events are going to fill each chapter. Every time I plan the number, it ends up being different. We _are _in the final third, though. We're kind of trundling up a big hill right now – soon, we get to hurtle :P

-------

-------

CHAPTER TWENTY-NINE

"Tell me about your mother."

Roxas' mug paused halfway to his mouth. For a moment, he locked up. Then he relaxed. "There's not much to tell," he said quietly. "She died when I was five years old. The woman I _thought _was my mom was just a computer simulation."

Vincent's gaze was steady, studying. "Tell me about _her, _then."

The blond shot him a confused look. "What would be the point? She's what they made her to be." His eyes lost their focus for a moment. "I don't even know if she exists anymore. What happens to the parents when the child doesn't need them anymore?"

Vincent shrugged minutely. "I couldn't tell you. Twilight Town is out of my expertise."

Roxas sighed, nodded. "I guess I'll find out for myself, soon enough."

"Have you enjoyed your training so far?" the low-voiced man inquired. Roxas forced a pained smile, not quite meeting his gaze.

"To be honest, between one thing and another, I haven't received much training at all. I've been here a while now, but… It's just – one thing after another."

Vincent was silent for a while, as Roxas, at a loss for what to do with himself in the long run, resigned himself to the moment and took a sip of strong coffee.

Leon and Cloud were gone, though their papers remained scattered over the far table. Roxas hadn't seen them since his late dinner. However, as the dark-haired man had predicted, they'd had a half-full pot of coffee keeping warm. Roxas had no compunctions in drinking as much of it as he could, even knowing how many times each cup would send him to the bathroom. However, exhaustion was catching up – over the last several days in hospital, he'd grown accustomed to plenty of rest, mostly undisturbed nights. To launch straight back into traumatised, self-induced insomnia was wreaking havoc on his recuperating system. At this rate, caffeine or no, he could clearly picture himself taking an endless cold shower, with matchsticks to prop open his eyelids. Or tape. Yeah. Tape them to his forehead and bid farewell to blinking. Dry eyes wouldn't be so bad…

Better than waking on a rooftop at midnight.

He closed his eyes, tipped his nose into the mug and deepened his mouthful. His hands stung at the heat – mysterious blisters and splinters that the blond didn't remember getting dotting his palms and the meat of his fingers. It wasn't fair, damn it – here he was, trying to take care of himself, while, the second he slipped away, his body was doing its damndest to virtually destroy itself. If Vincent hadn't been on that tower…

He shivered once, violently, choked on the coffee as his breath hitched. He placed it down quickly, with a sharp clatter, and started to cough roughly. Vincent reached out and carefully shifted the cup out of knocking range. "Take your time," he said softly, as the boy struggled to compose himself. Roxas jammed a knuckle between his teeth, struggling to regulate his breathing. He rested his elbows on the surface, dipped his head low, teeth clamping together, lips pressed, eyebrows drawn as he glowered at the shining metal, sucking in each breath through his nose. Vincent watched. His hands moved together elegantly, metal fingers interlinking with gloved, amber eyes level and ever-inscrutable.

"How often is this happening?"

Roxas hunched over briefly, biting down hard on the knuckle, grinding. When at last he released it, almost startled by the sudden sting of pain, it was slick with spit, a trace of blood rising from the tooth-marks. He stared for a moment, sighed heavily, shook his head. "I don't know. A few times. It's – it's getting worse."

"And you remember nothing at all?"

Roxas' hands snaked out for his mug, grip tight, to still the shaking, ignoring the many minute stabs in his palms. "I don't – " Flaxen spikes shook roughly from side to side. "I don't. I don't remember – _anything. _But – " He swallowed, eyebrows knitting, head tilting slightly to the side as he gazed at the table, face twisted with an edge of distress. "I – " His voice was soft. "I can feel it getting worse. Don't – don't ask me how, because, I mean, I don't remember, right? I shouldn't know if it's good or bad, or… but it is. It's getting… _worse." _His eyes widened, fingers flexing, thumbs sliding across the white porcelain. "I don't know what's going on."

Vincent nodded slowly. "Does Axel know about this?"

Roxas grimaced. "Yeah. He says it's okay. Normal." His face lightened briefly. "He said it happened to other people." He swung his head to the man. "Has – has this happened before? Like this?"

"…Not that I know of." Vincent watched the blond deflate, eyes drifting back down.

"So, I'm back to wondering what the hell is going on with me," Roxas said quietly. He placed his hands over his eyes and groaned. "I just don't _know. _I mean, I can't just not _sleep. _This is the second time in one _night _that I'm going to bed and waking up somewhere different, somewhere _wrong. _I don't under_stand." _He frowned suddenly, turned back to Vincent. "Why'd you ask about my mom, anyway?"

Vincent's index finger tapped slowly on the surface. "Some things you said were to do with your mother."

Frustrated bewilderment crossed the boy's face. "That's – so stupid. She's _dead, _for crying out loud!" He pushed back with a snarl, crossed his arms sharply over his chest, jaw clenching tighter than ever, until his head pounded, until the gap between his teeth caused by the man calling himself Sephiroth began to ache anew. _"I _know that, so why won't the rest of me just _accept _it?" There was desperation in his tone. "I just – I don't _get _it." He frowned. "Do I need _counselling? _Is this some kind of separation angst leftover from leaving Twilight Town? Am I just – am I weak at this?"

Vincent raised an eyebrow. "At what?"

Roxas gestured largely, hands held out helplessly at their surroundings. _"This. _Hollow Bastion. Being a techie, being with Axel, all the rest. Am I just no good at it? No matter how much I wanted it, was it just wrong for me? Is my brain not coping, or _what?"_

Vincent was silent for several beats, as Roxas began to berate himself, hopelessness rising up without the redhead around to beat it back with his affection and constant reassurances. Would Roxas always need someone telling him he'd be okay in order to function? Because ever since leaving Axel at the hospital, he'd done nothing but go downhill.

"I'd say," Vincent suggested, "that it's more a case of the things that have happened to you. No one else has been attacked quite so frequently as you in such a short space of time, Roxas. No one has been separated from their partner on the very first day of leaving Twilight Town, to my knowledge. Add all of that, the fear and uncertainty on top of what is already a difficult situation… and I can imagine a reaction this violent. You yourself might be coping, but there are parts of you, parts perhaps that you are unwilling to confront, that aren't dealing very well." His eyes were thoughtful. "By repressing them in your efforts to adjust quickly to your new environment, it could be that you have unwittingly triggered these episodes. Perhaps it _is _separation anxiety."

Roxas slumped, massaging his forehead with his knuckles. "I mean… that makes _sense," _he said softly, "it really does, but it feels so much more complicated than that." He exhaled loudly, tucking his nose into his hand. "Maybe I _do _need to talk to someone," he mumbled. He gave a short, mirthless laugh. "I can only imagine what Axel will think when he comes home and finds out that I've gone nuts without him permanently holding my hand…"

"I think Axel will be just as eager as you to figure all this out," Vincent murmured. "He cares about you very deeply, and always has done. I don't believe there is a flaw in you that he would hesitate to embrace."

Roxas grimaced, uncomfortable with the frankness of the man. In light of everything that was happening, it occurred to Roxas that perhaps part of this confusion was his apparently sudden switch in sexuality. The last time he liked anyone, it had been Naminé. He'd gone for a few years without feeling attraction towards anyone in particular, and then Axel waltzes into his life… Yes, things since then had been different, and stressful, all shaken up, and he _hadn't _had time to process it all. It still swirled, all of it this glorious mess inside his head, a cat's cradle of wool twisted from this membrane to that cortex, wound all the way back into the darker recesses, where it continued to convolute and fester. Roxas had been surviving for so long, that he had forgotten that deeper thought was involved in all of this… Simply visiting the gravesite of his mother, and accepting that she was dead, didn't mean that the issue was gone from his head.

He sighed. "Yeah," he said heavily. He ran a finger around the rim of his mug. "I know." His gaze grew distant. "Maybe I'll see if Aerith can help me. She's getting worried… as if she really _is _my mother…" He smiled a little at that.

Vincent cautioned tonelessly, "Be careful of thinking that way. It won't help you at all if you end up replacing her in your mind with your birth-mother. She is a maternal presence; for the moment, leave it at that. Try to consider her a particularly nurturing friend, rather than a parental figure."

Roxas shot him a frustrated look. "You're not letting me get away with anything, are you?"

"Do you think you'll try and sleep again tonight?" the man asked, drawing the conversation from the subject of mothers. Roxas frowned, sucking on his lower lip. He shook his head.

"I'm kind of sick of closing my eyes in Axel's room and opening them somewhere completely different. I'll wait until I'm really tired – that might settle things down."

"I doubt it," Vincent said, discouragingly. "But it's worth trying. However, I also doubt you will be in Axel's room. You caused some damage, I think in your efforts to escape. The door appeared to have been locked."

Roxas blinked, eyes shooting wide. He sat up quickly. "Holy shit! Yes, it was locked! I – " Trepidation overcame his expression. "How the hell did I get out? Aerith _locked _it." Feeling sick, he asked, "What do you mean, caused some damage? What kind of damage _could _I have caused?"

"Those keys of yours seemed to be effective enough to break the lock open."

"Oh, _man." _He dropped his forehead to the table, winced, came up rubbing it in confusion, frowning. "Am I bruised?" he mumbled. "Like, more than I was?" He touched the area gingerly.

"You weren't very careful of yourself," the other man said, a faint hint of apology lacing his tone. Roxas scowled.

"Stupid sleep-walking body." He sighed dejectedly. "So I broke Axel's door." Vincent shook his head slightly.

"There was more than that. It doesn't matter now, though. The last thing you need is further upset." He inhaled, lips pursing slightly. "One way or another, this needs to be fixed. You can't continue like this."

"You're telling me," the blond said testily, wondering unhappily about what sort of damage Vincent was talking about. Exactly how fucking crazy was his sleep-self going to become? It wasn't enough that he was waking up in tears, freaking people out, or climbing towers, but now he was growing violent as well? "I didn't hurt anyone, did I?" he asked doubtfully, thinking of Zexion. He still hadn't managed to apologise to the man, even though he knew he wasn't being held accountable for the injury.

"No. I followed you from your room. The only other people that saw you were Leon and Cloud."

Roxas scowled. "So where are they now?"

Vincent shrugged a little. "Very possibly investigating why you were up and walking around at this time of night. They know you were asleep. I realised it when you didn't respond to me, and DiZ already spoke to me on the matter."

Roxas looked over sharply, uneasily. "DiZ was talking about me? Why?"

"He described what happened in the computer room earlier this evening. Asked for me to extend my patrolling ground to encompass your room, in case something went wrong." He nodded shortly. "A fortunate request."

Roxas' eyebrow rose, he agreed in a murmur. He rubbed his face, and gulped his coffee. He glanced over to the broad windows. "Hey, Vincent?"

"Yes?"

"How long until dawn?"

There was a brief hush, before the man answered, "About five hours."

"…Oh." It had felt like they'd been there for longer. Roxas looked down into his cup, almost empty. "I think I'll go make some more."'

He rose, the mug dangling from his finger, and padded across the dining hall on silent feet. He was still cold, but masked it, not wanting to cause any more trouble than he had already. Besides which… he didn't feel like being left alone, if the other man thought to get him something warmer. He didn't know what he'd do if Vincent decided to call it a night, leaving Roxas to his caffeine and caffeinated thoughts.

He felt a flutter of panic at the thought of being alone – what if he dropped off? What if he dozed without meaning to? What if next time, no one caught up with him? Because there'd be a next time. Roxas was almost sure of it.

Luckily, Vincent must have really been some kind of vampire, because at no point during the five hours til daylight did the man even seem to want to leave, didn't even suggest that Roxas try again to sleep, let alone claim to need any himself. Cloud and Leon never did come back, for which the blond was grateful. This could remain between him and Vincent, at least for the moment.

It was nice, to be with someone who didn't seem to think he was being strange. He wasn't sure the feeling would spread so generously to everyone else, once they heard of it.

It was a very long night.

-------

Kairi found him at breakfast, long after Vincent had vanished, leaving the blond to cling to the reassuring normality of the forming groups. He sat with Luxord and Larxene at their usual table, feeling Axel's absence from the scene like a missing limb. Where there had been a warm, energetic, entertaining and affectionate presence, there was now just – space. It made Roxas feel even colder, more alone than ever, especially as neither of the other two techies were anything close to morning people, just when he needed cheering up the most.

Kairi's appearance almost startled him, interrupting his drained, aching misery. In his time so far at Hollow Bastion, he had yet to embark on a proper conversation with the girl. The only thing they seemed to have in common was Axel. In all honesty, she intimidated Roxas a little – this was Axel's _sister. _They seemed to have a good relationship, and Roxas was nervous of what would happen if for some reason she decided to dislike him upon getting to know him better. He wasn't a total idiot – he was aware of how powerful Axel's feelings for him were, he knew it he wasn't going to be dumped if Kairi didn't like him, but – he just – he'd had enough of difficulty. He'd have been happy avoiding her, and never having to deal with the potential discord, even at the cost of a possible friend.

She looked worried as she approached, wary. She smiled in a forced fashion. "Hi, Roxas. I – um, I passed by your room to pick you up, but…" Her eyes flicked to the other two occupants of the table. "Well, I see you got here by yourself."

Neither Luxord nor Larxene were displaying signs of interest in the conversation. Roxas watched them carefully for a moment, before darting the girl a faintly panicked look. He still didn't know what state he'd left the room in, but judging from her expression, it wasn't going to be great. "I've been… up for a while."

"Well, I wanted to know if you wanted to join us at our table," she said after an awkward beat. "Since we'll be working together today and all."

"Uh…"

Again, he glanced at the others. Larxene, who had apparently been following the conversation despite her otherwise detached appearance, looked up witheringly. "You can go play with the children, dear," she sneered. "As long as you're back by dinnertime."

Kairi glared a little, but knew the woman well enough to not bother with a retort. As Roxas silently nodded and rose from his seat, no plate or bowl to bring along since he hadn't felt like eating yet, stomach faintly queasy, Kairi unsuccesfully fought back a cringe. Roxas was reminded, sighing slightly, that he hadn't turned pretty overnight. The bruises were as colourful as ever. Naminé had probably told her about them, but it still didn't beat seeing them the first time in person. That plus his exhaustion, and he imagined he wasn't at his most attractive. Great. His first proper interaction with the family, and he was already giving off a bad impression. It was a testament to Kairi's sweet nature that she didn't instantly point out his overall haggardness.

He followed her wearily. She waited after a few steps for him to catch up, still that cautiousness in her eyes. "I'm sorry I didn't visit you in hospital," she said, hesitantly. "Nam and I split you and Axel between us in our breaks."

Roxas shook his head, spikes swaying, ruffled and messed. "It's fine. I was out of it most of the time anyway, the painkillers and all…"

She smiled thinly. "Nam said." They started over towards the other techie table. Roxas reached back, scratched his neck.

"Uh, say, Kairi – what did you, maybe, see when you went past my room? How were – things?"

"Well – the door wasn't looking too good," she replied, glancing over. "It was covered up by some of the tape the Committee uses to cordon places off. There was a note from Leon saying you'd be sleeping in Demyx's room until Axel comes back."

Roxas blinked, straightened slightly. "Oh."

"It said – there'd been a problem with the lock?"

Roxas smiled, trying not to let his relief filter through. "Uh, right, yeah. I had some trouble with it. It's – really not a big deal."

She nodded, looked a little more positive. She ushered him over to the table, and smiled brightly at Riku and Sora, the only ones out yet. Roxas guessed it still must be reasonably early. He didn't really know – he'd lost track of time a while ago. Right now, it was all just about how light it was outside. "I found Roxas," she announced happily, waving him over to sit beside her. They lowered down into their seats. Riku waved in greeting, eyes widening over the top of his coffee mug as he glanced up. He choked slightly, pulled it away, blurted, "Holy shit, Roxas!" There was an uncomfortable pause, before the silver-haired boy cleared his throat, pinned by twin glares from his companions. "I mean, good morning."

Roxas chuckled weakly. "That's the most honest reaction I've had so far," he admitted. "I think I actually prefer it to the freaked-out looks followed by determined niceness."

Sora grinned wryly. "How're you holding up, poker-buddy?" He gestured with his spoon, eyebrows rising. "You look better out here than you did in that bed."

Roxas smiled, settled his hand on one hand, tried to not fall asleep at the table. "I do? I guess that's a good thing, then. At least I don't look worse."

Riku grunted. "This is better?" he muttered, before getting an elbow jabbed in the side by his boyfriend, whose smile became slightly forced and cheery while Riku coughed hard on his mouthful of cereal. Kairi, missing the exchange, scrunched up her nose.

"Ew, Riku. Do the world a favour and chew." He shot her a dangerous look, spoon stabbing at the air in a threatening manner. "I hope you don't mind us stealing you away, Roxas," she said, turning to the blond, tucking her knuckles under her chin, violet eyes wide. "I just thought it would be nice to have you over here for a while, especially with Axel gone. Don't feel like you need to follow him everywhere, though, just because of how he is with you."

Roxas blinked. "What?"

She smiled knowingly, tipping her nose down a little, raising a brow. "It's okay, I know what he's like. Nothing would make him happier than having you absolutely everywhere he goes, within arm's length, but you need to build a life for yourself, too." She shrugged. "It's not easy. We know that as well as anyone. Me and Riku have been in the same boat."

"Although _our _boat was slightly less obsessive," Riku put in. Sora squinted.

"Does that – make me the boat? Because I don't think that's what she meant."

"And you shut up about Axel," Kairi said sharply, poking a finger at him. "I'm the only one allowed to make allusions to his craziness. And Roxas, now. No one else." She turned back with a smile. "Since you know even more of the intimate details than me, feel free to call him obsessive as much as you like."

"Uh – thanks." Roxas shook his head. "I'm okay with it, though."

She beamed. "That's what makes this all so great. Who'd have known you'd end up being so cool with him? You didn't even get mad when you found out about his – um, frivolities."

This time, the blond laughed outright. "Look, I told him, I'll tell you, I'll tell the world if I need to – whatever he did before I came along doesn't even matter. How he acts now is what's important to me." He sobered a little. "I'm just happy that he's… happy. He's being incredibly patient, considering the – the _scale _of his…"

"Insanity," Riku supplied. "Feel free to throw it about. I did for years."

"And yet, he continued to call you his friend." Sora rolled his eyes as Kairi scowled, digging his spoon deep into his cereal. Aerith entered the dining hall with Leon and Cloud, spotted Roxas, hesitated. He caught sight of the pink, swung his head around and froze. She was frowning in concern, met his gaze for a long moment. Leon leaned down to murmur in her ear, and she nodded faintly. She smiled at Roxas, inclined her head once, and continued across towards the kitchen wall.

"… because I _said _that you _can't _already," Kairi was saying in annoyance. "Would it _kill _you try and be a little – hi, Leon." The irritation in her tone faded into a breathy quality as the brunet approached. If stars could have started showering from her eyes, now would've been the time for it to happen. Roxas could practically see the dewy-eyed hope. Apparently, she hadn't quite given up on the idea of Leon being straight. Either that, or denial was striking hard. The man hardly glanced at her. A faint grunt of recognition was about the most he offered. His blue-grey eyes found Roxas, and held for a long second, sending some kind of silent message. "Me and Cloud did what we could about your door," he said neutrally. "We told Aerith about your new sleeping arrangements. She approves, but wants to make sure you're comfortable enough, so let her know the next time you're planning to take a nap. Apparently Demyx's room can get messy without the kid even being in the vicinity."

"O-oh," stammered the blond. "Thanks." His heart thundered at the double-meanings lacing the statement. To anyone else, the mystery of Roxas' door had been solved, but the questions only deepened as far as he was concerned. He could only wallow in the overwhelming gratitude welling up in his chest, and fight the urge to start crying. He swallowed. "I appreciate your help," he muttered hoarsely. Leon studied him briefly, inclined his head.

"Any time."

He left without another word. Kairi slammed her elbows on the table and pouted, manicured nails tapping the sides of her face. "It's really, really unfair. I wish I was Cloud."

"You and the rest of the world," Sora agreed fervently, making Riku glare.

"I certainly don't," he bit off. "I'm perfectly happy how I am, and even happier with how _you _are."

Sora grinned, reached out to tap his nose with his milky spoon. "That's because you looooove me," he teased, before leaning forward to lick the drips from the teen's skin. Riku continued to glower, but there was a lot of effort involved in maintaining it. Sora just laughed, knowing precisely the effect he was having on the other male, and went back to his breakfast. "So, wow," he said through a mouthful of milk and crunching, "sounds like they just about had to break you out, huh? From what Kairi said about the door, and all. What's up with that?"

"Uh – they did," Roxas said quickly. "They had to break the lock. It… jammed."

"This place really is a piece of shit," Riku muttered, pulling his long sleeve over his hand and wiping his nose off. "It's falling apart all over the place."

"Good thing we've got the Committee, then," Kairi said happily. "I got Leon to change my light-bulb the other day. Don't know what I'd do without him!"

"Have no one to salivate over? Turn lesbian out of desperation?"

Sora tilted his head to one side, ignoring the sound of flesh smacking flesh as Kairi lunged across the table to attack his lover. "So, Roxas – you're working with Kairi today?"

The blond shook himself mentally, nodded. "I'm still not sure what I'm meant to be doing. It's not like I've even been near the computer since that first viewing spaz-out." He flushed a little. "And – last night."

"Naminé told Kairi, who told us," Sora said, nodded sagely. "Sucks, man. Sleep-walking, huh?"

"I started talking in my sleep when I first came to Hollow Bastion," Riku offered, rubbing his slap-reddened shoulder, head pulled back so that the strands of silver wouldn't get tugged. Roxas' interest was aroused. He frowned, leaning forward, hands clasping between his thighs.

"Really? What did you say?"

"All kinds of crazy shit. Sometimes I woke myself up out of a really deep sleep from shouting so loud."

"That made two of us," the brunet chipped in dryly. "Those were some fun nights, I tell ya. It was like nothing would shut him up!"

"So – what happened?" Roxas rested his chin on the table, telling himself that it didn't necessarily mean he was going to fall asleep. "Do you still do it?"

"Naw. It's been four years now. It lasted for about three months, and then just sort of went away." He shrugged, took a gulp of coffee. "Weird things happen when weird things happen. It's not like surviving a war, your parents' deaths, having your memories wiped and rebuilt to believe in something that's pretend, and then eventually being hauled out and told it's all a lie, sets you up to be the most stable person around. Brains don't like that much interference in the familiar."

"The familiar?" Roxas smiled crookedly. "Now you sound like Axel."

"It's part of the conditioning process, that's why," Sora explained. "Introducing unfamiliarity into this perfect little bubble world you've always existed in – it interrupts the programming. Your memories aren't _actually _wiped – they're just covered up with the lies. The second someone starts questioning them, the falsities start breaking down. And then there's the wonders – little parts of the program coming unhooked one by one."

Roxas scowled. "I didn't like the one in the tunnel. That was horrible."

Riku raised an eyebrow. "The moaning tunnel? Why's that so horrible? I mean, I know it's a little weird, but it's not all that bad."

Roxas stared incredulously. "Are you kidding? Having the shit beaten out of me was _not _fun. And that was fucking _scary, _not just a 'little weird'."

"Say again? The shit beaten out of you?"

"There was someone or something that looked like Seifer," Roxas explained. "He kept popping in and out of existence, and bashed me until I passed out." He faltered, suddenly noticing the shocked expressions of those around him. "I mean – isn't that supposed to happen?"

"Did you tell Axel?" Riku demanded. Roxas was confused.

"I – I didn't tell him the details. I was too freaked out. But – I think he said – it wasn't meant to be bad like that. He could see how shaken up I was."

"He should have said something," Sora scowled. Kairi sighed, shook her head and rolled her eyes.

"Are you kidding? That was the time he crushed his watch, remember? He wasn't going to draw more attention to that than he needed to."

"I hate those watches," Roxas grumbled. Kairi smiled a little.

"It's funny," she said lightly. "I can remember threatening to kill my dear darling older brother if he ever took his watch off – he was being such an idiot when it came to you. Staying in the system long after he was supposed to have come out, messing up our rosters, avoiding DiZ like you wouldn't believe, just to try and get closer to you." A tenseness passed over her face, a small frown forming. "I can't tell you how glad I am that everything worked out between you two."

"A lot of people say that," replied the blond quietly. "All I can do is agree. I don't like to think of the 'what-ifs'."

"I'm not happy about that discrepancy," Sora muttered, spoon drumming the table. "Axel was right – that wasn't supposed to happen. And _he _didn't even know the _details." _He cocked his head, puzzled, blue eyes meeting Roxas'. "Did anything else strange happen like that? Anything particularly off, or frightening?"

Roxas thought for a moment, hesitated. "The one where my – my shadow came out of the fountain. But Axel seemed to know all about that. He accidentally mentioned knowing it was my shadow before I told him." Everyone relaxed, nodded.

"That's fine," the brunet said. "It's harsh, but it works nicely. It's a way to jump-start your old memories."

"Speaking of which, had any yet?" Riku asked, swirling the milk in his bowl, getting ready to drink it directly.

"I don't know. Not really," Roxas sighed. "It's not like I've had much opportunity. I wish I could just do this like everyone else. It'd be nice to just deal with the regular freak-out stuff."

"Well, I'll check into that with the wonder," Sora said. "It's pretty odd that that happened. It's meant to be weird, but not scary like that, and _definitely _not violent."

"As for memories," Kairi added, laying a hand on his shoulder and smiling encouraingly, "those will come back in their own time. You've got your whole life ahead of you to rediscover that part of yourself, as brief as that time of your life was. It's important."

"Maybe that's why I'm sleep-walking," Roxas wondered aloud. "People keep saying it's stress, but – what if it's those memories not being allowed to rise up? And – and that could be why I keep wanting my mom… I've got this five-year-old inside me fighting to get out…"

"While Sora's got an adult fighting for just the same thing," Riku pointed out. Sora slapped his other shoulder, making him exhale loudly. "Fine, just call me 'punching bag' today and get it over with. Roxas? Any grievances to bitch-slap me over?"

Roxas, caught deep in thought, merely shook his head. There was a small spark of hope rising in him, just little and young, that wondered if this could all be resolved simply by tapping into that part of himself. If he was supposed to be having memories by now, and wasn't, didn't that earn him the right to be going a little weird in the head? So much was going on, the one rug of security he'd ever had had been snatched away, and so far the only thing he'd had to replace it with was Axel's attentions. If he could just recapture that section of himself that recalled Hollow Bastion and the wartime memories, as traumatic as they must have been, what with the death of his parents and whatever came both before and after – if he could dredge it up, maybe all of this subconscious idiocy would subside. He'd give anything to feel normal again.

A cup of coffee was dropped in front of him, a half-inch off the table surface, startling him out of his reverie, back to the world of bickering. Its black innards swung up towards the rim but didn't spill. Roxas blinked, looked up to see Vaan looking sleepy. He smiled a little at Roxas. "You looked like you could use this, even from across the room. And I think Aerith's making you a special breakfast. Something about making you feel better, from what I overheard."

Roxas was surprised. "Thanks." He picked up the cup, not exactly thrilled at the thought of yet more coffee, but reasoning that again, the caffeine could only help. Vaan rolled one shoulder, took the seat beside him, already sucking down his own wake-up beverage.

"You went back to your shift last night, right?" Sora asked. The white-blond teen nodded.

"Yeah. Figured Nam could use the help. Not the smartest idea, leaving her alone in charge of all of Twilight Town."

Kairi stiffened defensively. "Nam's fine," she argued shrilly. "Just because she prefers her artwork to sitting in a dark room for hours on end – "

Vaan held up a placatory hand. "I wasn't insulting her, Kai. Nam's just not the most dedicated techie around. Memories, fine, but the rest is still kind of beyond her." He settled his gaze on Roxas. The blond shifted in his seat. "So how're you feeling today? Better?"

It took a moment for Roxas to figure out which incident he was addressing. He nodded. "Better," he lied. "I'm – tired, though."

Kairi patted his arm. "Well, you'll be with me and Sora today." She made a slight face. "He insists that I can't train you alone."

"Roxas could do with some words of wisdom from one of the greats," the brunet boy said airily. "I kick ass and chew gum, and if I get my way, he'll be following in the old man's footsteps."

"Which old man would that be?" Vaan asked dryly. Sora frowned.

"Well, I sort of meant _me. _But – I guess I can see I wasn't totally clear…"

"It's fine, Sora," Kairi sighed. "But, isn't Zexion meant to be training Roxas?"

"My thoughts precisely." Everyone jumped, twisted to see the man standing behind them, hair as usual swept over one eye, the unobscured one calm. His arms were folded loosely, Demyx already scooting down onto his knees beside Roxas' chair and throwing his arms around the blond. A second before he hit, Vaan darted a hand out, grabbing hold of the Mohawk section of his hair and yanking back, making the man let out a yelp of surprise and indignation. "Dude, Roxas has broken ribs," the teen reminded him. "I know you pant like a puppy every time he enters the room, but try and keep a little decorum, for his sake."

Zexion, torn between smirking and frowning, said, "Let him go. He's not going to hurt Roxas."

Roxas, as well aware as Zexion that Demyx had been preparing to crunch what was left of his chest into bloody oblivion, rallied to the suddenly dejected blond's side. "Dem's okay," he smiled, looking down at the man. "He knows to be careful."

Dem smiled like the sun bursting through the clouds, and nodded enthusiastically. Unfortunately, this pulled at his still-gripped hair. He pouted. "Lemme _go," _he whined. When the request was fulfilled, he straightened, rubbed his abused scalp for a moment, then very deliberately, very gently, hugged Roxas' stomach with a happy sigh. "How're you holding up, Axel's Roxie? There's no Axel around for you to cuddle with!" He straightened, beaming. "Allow me to be your temporary stand-in!"

"That's quite alright, Dem," Zexion said, sounding amused. "I'm sure Roxas will survive. Distance makes the heart grow fonder, etcetera, et al." His eye narrowed slightly, he tossed his head, the swinging hair revealing for a moment the other one. "Now, what's this about Roxas being trained by Sora and Kairi this morning?"

"It's just a temporary thing, Zexy," Sora said brightly. "Kairi wanted some time with Roxas, getting to know the in-laws and all that, and I figured I might as well make it worth his while in the education department – he'll be back to being yours by this afternoon, after the shift ends."

Demyx wasn't pleased. "But he's _all _ours. The second Axel leaves the room, Roxas belongs to _me _until everybody's favourite pyro returns!"

"Dem, they're not adopting him, for crying out loud," Vaan muttered. "He could do with the undivided focus for a while."

"I give him undivided focus," the blond argued.

"Sure, when you're not singing, chattering inanely, playing your sitar, playing with Zexion's hair, playing with _Roxas' _hair, making up _songs _about Roxas and Zexion's hair – "

"That was only one time," Demyx cried, "during that _one _shift!"

"And Demyx, I'm still recovering. I don't want to know about how silky spikes are compared to straight-down hair while I'm monitoring an entire goddamn town at three in the morning."

"Anyway, look," interrupted Kairi brightly, in an obviously desperate attempt to break up the absurdity the conversation took, as per usual, the moment the musician appeared, "Aerith's coming over with Roxas' breakfast!"

Roxas turned, Demyx still firmly hooked around his waist, though carefully. Aerith met his gaze, smiled more warmly than she had earlier, evidently relieved by whatever she'd observed of him. She held a plate of hot food, which she placed down as she arrived. "Morning, everyone," she said in her soft, pleasant tone. The greetings flew back eagerly. As long as the woman continued to live within the castle, there'd never be any doubt in her mind about her lovability.

"Where's _my _breakfast?" Vaan grumbled. "I had a late night, too."

"Not as late as Roxas," the woman replied mildly. She patted Roxas' hair briefly. "It's good to see you looking a little more lively. You haven't eaten yet, have you?" Not having the heart to tell her that it was only the caffeine talking, or that he wasn't hungry even a little bit, he just shook his head. She seemed to understand his hidden layers, the smile becoming sympathetic. "Eat what you can. It'll keep you going."

"Thanks, Aerith," he mumbled. No matter what Vincent might have advised, there was a large part of him that reacted to her mothering – the only problem was, he didn't know if it was a good reaction, or a bad one. A sort of – sort of shivery feeling passed through him. The queasiness in his stomach increased, the scents wafting up from the plate a little sickening in their intensity. Yet, he couldn't help but feel comforted by her presence, her nurturing. She squeezed his shoulder lightly. "Don't forget what Leon said, when you're ready to sleep. It's a light day today, okay? Nothing too strenuous. Come get me after lunch. We can do some gardening."

Dem protested loudly, "That means me and Zexy don't get Roxas at _all _today!"

"Demyx," she scolded lightly, "do you want Roxas to be your personal teddy-bear, or do you want him to get _better?"_

He sulked, dug his face into the blond's stomach, making the blue eyes lift to the ceiling in exasperation. "Why can't it be _both?"_

"Demyx, you'll just have to be brave today," Zexion said dryly, shaking his head. "We'll still be seeing Roxas around. He's not going anywhere."

Unhappily, the man nodded and withdrew. "Fine. But I want it known that I'm sulking about this."

"Come and let's sulk together, then," Zexion suggested. "I'm hungry."

Demyx perked up. "Of course! It's breakfast time!" He poked a finger into Roxas' face. "You make sure you come sit with us at lunch, got it, buddy?"

"Okay, Dem," Kairi soothed, catching the finger and lowering it before an accident could occur, "Roxas will be back with you in no time. This is just a chance for some bonding while Axel's in hospital."

Demyx tilted his head to the side, thought this over. "Well," he said slowly, "if it means that you and Roxie become friends, I guess that's okay. Axel will be happy." He grinned. "Okay, then." He bounced up, waved. "See ya round, Roxie!"

Roxas waved back, watched him bob away with Zexion. "Nice save, Kairi," Riku said. "I thought Roxas was going to be dragged away for a second there."

"No," she smiled. Her eyes met Roxas', warm. "Like Dem said, Axel will be happy if we're proper friends. He deserves that much, don't you think, Roxas?"

The blond returned the expression, tired as he was, and agreed.


	30. Chapter 30

**A/N: **Ahh, I swear, it's coming to a close, all this slow stuff. Promise. The only other thing I have to say is that the last chapter of "Waiting" by A Spot of Bother was posted today. It's such a wonderful, well-written AkuRoku, and I urge anyone who's been maybe living under a rock and so missed it (Taylor, I'm looking in your general Californian direction) to go read and review :)

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CHAPTER THIRTY

Roxas sat nervously in the main chair of the computer lab. His eyes darted about. The previous two times that he'd been here, he'd lost his mind. He was flat-out scared that it would happen again, and he didn't think his abused psyche could handle it anymore. If things didn't start getting normal, fast, he'd end up going nuts. Sora sat in the other seat, carefully out of range, not exactly trusting Roxas any more than the blond did himself. Kairi was tapping away at the keys in front of him, violet eyes fixed with concentration on the rapid flow of information crossing the large screen.

"Are you _sure _you want to do this?" Roxas asked anxiously. "I broke Zexion's _arm _last time, not to mention the damage I did to the computer _itself. _I – " He glanced over, meeting Sora's calm gaze worriedly. "I can't handle that again."

"Roxas," Sora said patiently, "it's going to be fine. That was a one-off, I promise. The remaining programming is gone now – you won't have the same reaction. Now, it's just you in your head, nothing else. If you go crazy this time, it means you _are _crazy."

Disgruntled, the blond replied, "You know, I really don't find that comforting."

"You want to see your friends, don't you?" Kairi asked softly. Roxas' expression fell, he nodded.

"I really do. It's been – ages."

"Don't worry," Sora offered brightly. "If you decide to go nuts-o, I'll take care of you in a jiffy. I can kick your ass from here to next Sunday!"

"Oh, right, because I really need yet _another _beating," the blond glowered. Sora shrugged.

"It's your choice, in the end."

Kairi paused, glanced down. "Am I still going, or do you want to change your mind?"

Roxas closed his eyes, slumping back in the chair, shook his head. "No – keep going. I – I can't just never _see _them again."

"Exactly," the brunet agreed. He swivelled, stuck an elbow on the controls, plopped his head onto his hand and studied Roxas. "What's it like without Axel?"

Roxas mimicked the motion, chin on palm dejectedly. "Is it dumb that I miss him after only a day?"

Kairi smiled, continued. "Not at all. He's got this idiotic lovability thing going on. I think it's encouraging that you miss him – it means you really care."

"Well, of _course _he _cares, _Kairi." Sora rolled his eyes. "He'd have run a mile by now if he didn't."

"He's coming back tomorrow though, right?" the girl said distractedly as she worked. Roxas nodded.

"That's what he said. They're keeping an eye on the stitches, then he gets to come home at last." He rubbed his sore eye with a sigh. "It'll be nice to have everything just that bit closer to normal again." His gaze grew unfocused. "That guy really screwed things up for us."

Sora frowned. "Don't worry. It _won't _happen again. We've increased security around the castle. The Committee is helping out, too. We've set up a new patrolling roster. Vincent's been talking about heading out in a couple days to try and pick up the guy's trail again, too. There's no _way _we're just letting this go – even more important than your safety is the fact that if he can sneak in to try and kidnap someone, he's just as capable of trying to go for the Twilight Town core. He's shown he's more than willing to use violence."

Roxas lifted his head slightly, thumb and forefinger trailing soft, massaging lines across his temples. "I don't know," he said quietly. "He didn't seem all that interested in Twilight Town. He was just – caught up on me, and Cloud."

Sora darted a quick look at Kairi, who glanced over at the blond with a frown. "Cloud? What's he got to do with anything?"

"It's nothing, Kai," the brunet interjected. "From what Axel said, the guy's got a blond fixation. So keep an eye on Nami, okay? We don't know if he'll go after girls, too."

Roxas raised an eyebrow, met the boy's gaze. Sora returned the look with a hint of hardness, a tacit request that expected his obedience. In response to Kairi's suddenly frightened expression, the blond patted her elbow awkwardly. "It's okay. He probably won't be back anyway. Just – like Sora said, watch out for Naminé."

She pressed her lips together, nodded worriedly. Not entirely certain of Sora's motivations, Roxas nevertheless left it at that, falling silent and waiting for Kairi to finish finding his friends within the system. Several minutes passed, longer than it had taken when Axel was doing it, stretching his nerves thinner and thinner. The overall general exhaustion had morphed into a nervous energy, a glassy-eyed staring mingled with jumpiness. His knee started jerking up and down slightly, fingers fidgeting together.

At last, the girl completed her task, hesitated and glanced over. "You ready, Roxas?"

He took a breath, nodded resignedly. She struck a key, and moved quickly out of range. He gritted his teeth together, leaning forward and gripping the edge of the control panel in preparation. A large part of him honestly didn't expect to be able to see his friends again, perhaps ever – he was so sure that, any moment now, the world was going to fly apart, and he'd find himself without warning somewhere else in the castle in the aftermath.

When Olette came onto the screen, he froze. She was smiling, caught mid-laugh at something Pence was saying. Roxas recognised the Usual Spot, mid-afternoon light filtering through the train-tracks, all lain out before him like some kind of unfolding movie.

_Any minute now._

Hayner was sitting beside her, an arm slung casually around her waist on the dirty old sofa they'd dragged in from the curb outside someone's house. Pence was perched on the small table they'd acquired in third grade after his mom's spring cleaning.

_Craziness, upcoming…_

The brunet boy was kicking his legs, a grin on his cheery face. They all – they looked so happy. And peaceful, and… and they didn't even know they were missing someone. Before Roxas even had a chance to feel joy, he was overcome with sadness. He wanted to reach out and touch the screen, try to get close to them… but it would be useless to try. They were – in _there. _Locked away, trapped and happy. He couldn't even visit them, couldn't think of bringing them out until they _wanted _to come out.

Kairi and Sora were watching him closely. They tensed faintly as he leaned forward. "They look okay, don't they?" he said softly. The other two relaxed. Kairi sidled over, placed a hand on his shoulder, peered over him at the screen and smiled.

"They look like nice people, Roxas. I'll bet they loved you a lot."

Roxas let out a short, bitter laugh. "When they knew I existed?" He sighed, the hint of despair leaking away as quickly as it rose. After all, he had what he'd wanted – he'd gained his freedom. Even knowing the price, he knew that he'd do it all over again if he had to. "Yeah," he said quietly. "They _are _nice people. I didn't appreciate them enough while I had them."

Sora shook his head, swinging his seat from side to side. "Don't beat yourself up over that," he chided lightly. "It's just what happens. You grow restless in Twilight Town, and nothing seems okay anymore. What was once enough is just – empty."

Roxas raised his head a little, brow softening. "Yeah. That's – that's just how it happened." His eyes returned to the screen, the self-judgement easing slightly at the boy's words. "Do you think – I'll ever get to visit them?" he asked. Kairi glanced over at Sora, who shook his head slowly.

"Not for social reasons," he answered. "From now on, you're not allowed in the system at all unless someone else wants out. And anyway… by that time, none of your friends would even remember you. Not to mention the fact it'd mess with their programming to see you again. They've been made to forget, but if you tried hard enough, you could shake that." He looked at the panels of controls, fingers running lightly over them. "Twilight Town is a big thing, it's one of the most complicated pieces of machinery to basically ever exist, but it's still fragile. It's built so delicately – it would be too easy to wreak havoc on the people inside. We have to take care of them, the best that we can."

Roxas studied him. "This is really important to you, huh?"

Sora flashed him a tired sort of smile. "Yeah. I've been working on Twilight Town for a long time now. It's important to all of us, but I think it means even more to people like me and Axel, who lived out here our whole lives knowing that the people we loved were so close, but so far out of reach… Even though we've both got the ones we wanted, it's not like you can just sever yourself from that, you know?" He shrugged a little. "I can't imagine just abandoning it simply because I've got what I wanted. There's a lot of people in there that deserve the chance to live a real life, too."

Roxas tilted his head to the side. "That's right – you want them _all _out, don't you?"

Kairi grimaced. "Don't get him started."

Sora glared. "They deserve to know the truth. They deserve the same opportunities as the rest of us. At least a _choice _in the matter."

"Sora, they had a choice, right at the beginning," Kairi said, in a tone that suggested the argument was old and well-travelled. "And that was to die on the streets or allow themselves to be taken and put into the network. They're better off where they are." She settled a hand on Roxas' shoulder. "I mean, look at Roxas," she continued earnestly, making the blond blink. "He's having enough trouble adjusting, and that's with _wanting _to leave, and with Axel helping him every step of the way! We simply don't have enough time, people or energy to bring all those hundreds of kids out, who are just as content where they are!"

Sora lapsed into a sulky silence. Roxas looked at his old friends in their circuitry prison, and wondered if they would want this life – if they had the choice, would they use it to leave, or stay? He had a feeling he knew the answer, and, all over again, was briefly mournful. His life belonged out here. He couldn't imagine having to still be living there. It sent a spark of panic through him, just at the idea. No Axel. No _real _air. It almost made him want to rush outside, just to gulp down some proper lungfuls, to confirm to himself that he was alive, and free.

He lowered his face, frowning, wishing more than ever that the redhead was around. It wouldn't be that long until he returned, but it still managed to feel like an eternity. After all, he had an entire night to get through before the projected date of Axel's release, and who knew what would occur during those unconscious hours.

Kairi, noticing the sudden loss of interest in the conversation, paused from berating Sora's short-sightedness, hesitated. "Roxas? Are you okay?"

He forced a smile, inhaled through his nose, nodded firmly. "Yeah. I'm okay. I just… you know. I'm thinking of things."

"You don't regret coming here, do you?" Sora asked, cocking his head, blue eyes briefly worried. Roxas' smile became more genuine. He shook his head.

"To be honest, this is the first time I really _know _I made the right choice," he answered quietly. "I'd prefer – almost anything this world can throw at me, than still…" He gazed over at the screen. "…still being in _there. _All those walls I didn't even know existed…" They were all silent for a while, just watching the figures on the screen interacting in their make-believe lives, happy and carefree. Roxas still wanted to bring them out into the real world, but – if they were _happy…_

Roxas smiled wistfully as Olette smacked Hayner's shoulder soundlessly in the Usual Spot. This was where Axel had spent the better part of his life, seeking Roxas out, staring like this, watching his life in that shallow little town. He could understand now why Axel had continued to praise Twilight Town, even while he was in there preparing Roxas to leave; the way he'd admire the colour, the freedom of time and space. He had finally been allowed into Roxas' little life, walking the streets he'd so often seen the blond wandering, breathing the same air… Roxas remembered, all of a sudden, his promise that they'd find a rooftop to watch the sky from, no matter where they ended up.

All he ever had to do to make Axel happy was tell the truth. He figured it was about time he got around to that, to keeping his promises, just as Axel had kept his.

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When Roxas entered the dining hall several hours later, he was set upon almost immediately by the bouncing form of Demyx. With Sora and Kairi continuing their shift back in the computer room, there was nothing and no one to keep the excitable musician techie from seizing the blond and dragging him over to their usual, Axel-less table.

Luxord was absent, Zexion sitting with his cast on the metal surface as he conversed with Larxene. Upon arriving, Demyx promptly cut their discussion in half by throwing himself into his lover's lap, leaving Roxas to take the chair beside the blonde woman. She glanced over with mild interest. "Heard you trashed your room," she said, by way of greeting. Roxas scowled, fighting the collapse of his relatively buoyant mood.

"That's not true. My lock jammed, and they had to break me out." Just stick to the same lie, and everything would be fine. Who knew? Maybe it'd become real in time.

Larxene smirked, swivelled in her chair to face him fully, the wry cast to her mouth making Roxas uneasy. "Oh, really?"

"Yeah," he answered testily, fixing her with a hard look. "Really."

"That's not what _I_ heard," she replied in a sing-song, leaning forward and touching her fingertips smugly together. Roxas frowned, averted his gaze, uncertain how he could even argue effectively when she obviously knew more about it than he did.

"Hey, Zexion?" He chose to ignore the woman completely, making her purse her lips. The slate-haired man glanced up from where Demyx was playing with his uninjured hand, blinked in question. "I'm sorry for breaking your arm."

There was a briefly surprised silence. Larxene raised an eyebrow. "It's… fine, Roxas," said Zexion at last, visible eye curious. "We all know it wasn't your fault."

The blond shrugged. "Still. I wanted to apologise."

"Well – thank you," he hedged. "You're forgiven."

Roxas nodded. "Cool." He drummed his fingers on the table. "I'm going to go get some food," he announced abruptly. He rose, feeling like some kind of jack-in-the-box, a lot less bright than he had been when he first entered the room. He really needed to go inspect the damage before anyone else found out about it. He couldn't just – stick his head in the sand and leave things to take care of themselves. Vincent had already suggested the damage wasn't wonderful – it was time he saw it for himself.

He reached the kitchen section of the room, hesitated, and kept going, circling the hall and exiting back into the corridor he'd only left bare minutes ago. He didn't look over to see if anyone had noticed, didn't want to give them the chance to call him back.

His steps took him quickly through the halls, all so automatic now, it was like he couldn't remember ever not knowing the way. It was the way to going home – Axel's room was the core of it all, the heart. He didn't want to have to sleep in Demyx's room, now that the thought occurred to him – it would feel too foreign. Ironically amusing that his pursuit of the unfamiliar had led him to cling to the things he knew best, and cast a wary eye on all that he didn't. In this reality, even in the castle, anything out of the ordinary set him off-balance. But then, it wasn't exactly like he'd had the most stable couple of weeks.

The halls were cold, his feet still bare from the night before. He felt the smoothness of the ground against his soles, the almost painful chill that each step brought. He needed some long sleeves, and his shoes. Everything was in Axel's room. Well – he'd wanted to see the damage, hadn't he? This just meant he couldn't chicken out of it if the door looked too bad.

All too soon, he caught a glimpse of the bright tape Leon had used to section the room off, and scowled. No wonder so many people were noticing – fluorescent orange was bound to draw attention. He was surprised there wasn't a car-crash crowd gathered around murmuring among themselves. Any second now, he was going to stumble across the chalk outline on the ground…

Then again, considering how he got during these – episodes – maybe it was better to not think of anyone actually being harmed.

He drew to a stop directly outside, arms folding over his chest, shoulders hunching, brow creased as his eyes darted to each split in the door, each shattered fragment of wood. It looked like more than it just being broken down to get him out. The cover-story was looking weak all of a sudden, making him flush and close his eyes at the insistence with which he'd been yapping it the instant someone raised the subject. It was pretty obvious that something that gone on here, when everyone was sleeping, and that it didn't just involve a faulty lock. He was shamefully grateful for people like Kairi, who would accept his explanation without too much second-guessing. It helped that Leon was backing him up, gave him credibility, but unless this got fixed fast, that wouldn't last too long.

Biting his lip, he forced his posture straight in some silent form of determination, and reached out to draw the bright plastic ribbon aside. When he pushed at the door, it jammed, refused to budge more than a half-inch. He frowned, shoved at it with his shoulder and heard a crunching scrape. "Shit," he muttered. He drew back, stared for a moment, lowered to his knees and pressed his face to the stone floor. Someone, no doubt either Leon or Cloud, or maybe even Vincent, had wedged a chunk of broken wood into the gap under the door, keeping the more inquisitive from sating their curiosity. He wondered what Larxene had even seen to be able to claim he'd trashed his room – then again, she hadn't said that she'd _seen _anything – just that she'd heard it was trashed. So who _had _seen inside?

He reached out, tried to push his fingers under to jab the wedge out of the way, ended up cutting his cuticles on the edge. He hissed, bit his tongue with his canine teeth, pulled his hand back and glared down at the traces of blood already leaking out. Damn it, could he go _nowhere _these days without injuring himself somehow? He huffed in irritation, straightened out his smallest finger and slotted it back under, pushing with difficulty, straining his neck in an effort to keep his eyes in the right place. He grew hot with impatience, shoved some more, twisted his finger and jabbed. At last, he felt it loosen, eyebrows shooting up with relief, tongue poking out between his lips as he worked it a couple more centimetres out. He exhaled loudly, struggled up to standing, brushing off his knees. He grabbed the uselessly hanging handle of the door and gave it a sharp push, heard the wedge crunch and shift. It stopped again, after a foot. The gap was small, but he was just thin enough to squeeze through. He felt the sharp edges scrape at his chest and stomach as he passed, entering the dimness with a deep breath, the smell of Axel hitting him even after all this time.

Brushing at the front of his shirt absently, he started to glance around, stopped sharply, breath leaving for a moment, lips parting in consternation. For the longest amount of time, it just – didn't register in his mind that _he _had done this. The ferocity, the mindlessness of the destruction, it wasn't… wasn't _Roxas. _He just wasn't _capable _of this. Especially not with Axel's room, his belongings…

The blond took a reluctant step further in, pushing the door so it sat back against its frame, looking around slowly. Leon and Cloud had cleaned up the majority of the mess – the bedding was gone, the floor had been mostly swept, though Roxas could feel the sharp points of wood beneath his feet that they had managed to miss. But the mattress was shredded, the wardrobe doors cleaved almost in two. The walls were scarred with gouges, holes, the likes of which he hadn't even thought the keyblades would be capable of. They certainly weren't going to be sharp anymore, that was for sure…

"Jesus," he whispered, dismayed. His eyes wandered to the wall over the bed, froze, whole body going rigid. His lips peeled back into a snarl. "Find _mother?" _

Sudden anger blossomed up within him, almost an echo of the frustration that had caused all of this in the first place. He wished for his keyblades so he could wreak the devastation all over again, this time with the satisfaction of _knowing _he was doing it. He wanted to punch the wall, punch him_self… _None of this was fair. None of it was okay. This was just fucking _ridiculous. _

His breaths were heavy, chest heaving, teeth grinding together, hands clenching in and out of fists as the pressure in his stomach built up and up, like trapped steam seeking violent release. When a hand touched his shoulder, he spun and nearly punched Aerith to the ground. He jerked visibly, muscles tugging. The woman drew back slightly, worry turning to shock. "Roxas, calm down," she said softly. "It's okay."

"_Okay?" _He gestured furiously at their surroundings, eyes like slits. "Look what I did to Axel's room," he hissed. "This isn't what I'd call _okay."_

"It wasn't you," she reminded him. She reached out, ignored his flinching, took the sides of his face gently. "We're going to sort this out, but right now, you have to get a grip. Don't let go, not yet. There's still so much we can do to fight it, but there's nothing your fists can do here."

He closed his eyes, lips pressing tight, forcing the muscles bunching in his shoulders to loosen, releasing his fingers from their clamped position with effort. "Aerith, there's something _wrong _with me. What if Axel had _been _here at the time? Look at what I did without even _thinking."_

Her thumbs brushed his cheeks, eyes full of sympathy. "I know, sweetie. It's hard. But everyone's going to help you out with this. You're not alone."

With difficult, Roxas let go of the anger, felt it drain away, leaving a hard, dark seed but for the moment allowing him uneasy acceptance. "What's Axel going to say?" he wondered miserably. "I've completely wrecked his room. Look at the _walls. _It's not like we can just – explain this away. _Everyone's _going to find out eventually."

"And almost everyone already knows you've been having trouble with this sort of thing anyway," she said, hoping to comfort him, making him sink even lower into depression at the realisation that, yes, they all already knew he was a freak. "Axel will _understand, _Roxas. Do him a favour and give him some credit. You know he's not going to reject you over this, don't you?" She lifted his chin slightly, tilted her head to the side, seeking his eyes for an answer. "Hmm?" He met her gaze unhappily.

"I know. He's dumb like that. I could do just about anything, and he'd forgive me."

She smiled. "It's not being dumb, it's called caring unconditionally. I assure you, it's all very genuine as far as Axel is concerned. There's very little on this planet that could stop him from needing you." She patted him gently. "You, on the other hand, don't get it quite so easy. You need a little more than just love, don't you?" He frowned a little, puzzled. She let him go, stepped back, boots crunching over loose debris. Her green eyes scanned the room slowly before returning to him, concerned and kind. "I saw you leave the dining hall. You didn't look too happy. I hope I haven't overstepped my bounds by following you – I just wanted to make sure you were okay."

Roxas shook his head. "No, I – I'm pretty sure it's a good thing you did. I can't deal with this right now," he added quietly, lowering his face. "I didn't think it would be this – this…" He gestured uselessly, encompassing the madness.

She nodded in understanding. "It's a little surprising, isn't it?" she commented in a murmur, fingers intertwining against her skirt. "I can't really imagine what it's like for you right now." She stepped back, smiled encouragingly. "How about we get out of here? I made a packed lunch for us to take to the greenhouse, if you were after some time more on your own. I know Demyx is a little overpowering at the moment, but it's only until Axel comes back. He's worried that you'll feel lonely."

Roxas blinked, looked up. "He is? I thought he was just being – Demyx."

She giggled lightly, an astonishing noise to Roxas in this hideous setting, making it all seem a little less fraught, a little less dramatic. If Aerith could stand with him among the destruction and laugh, maybe it meant he wasn't as screwed up as he feared. The sound suggested redemption. He smiled in response. "I think… some solitude would be nice. But – I'm not very good at gardening. I have this problem with identifying weeds from flowers. I – my mom, she… A lot of pixelated peonies got uprooted whenever I was around." He dropped his head, scratching the back of his spikes. "I'll just – get something warmer to wear. And… my shoes, if I can find them."

"Oh, let me. You'll cut your feet up if you keep walking around…" She got a sweater from the wardrobe, still functioning despite the holes, and fetched his shoes from under the bed. He sat on the mattress, feeling the new lumps and crevices from his attack on it.

"Do you know where my keyblades are?" he asked uncertainly. Perhaps they wouldn't let him keep them anymore. Maybe it was considered too dangerous to allow him to wield anything potentially harmful. She glanced over her shoulder at him, from where she was brushing the powder of wood from the front of one of his new sweaters, as yet unworn.

"Leon took them," she answered quietly. "We all thought it was best for your safety right now, at least until it seems like we're making some kind of progress."

He was silent for a minute, gaze drifting, listening to the flop of material as Aerith shook the sweater out. She brought it over, holding it up to his shoulders, eyeing it critically. "I think everything should be fine," she remarked. "I had to make some guesses about your shoulder-width, but it's looking okay."

He smiled thinly. "They're fine. Thank you." He pulled it on, slipped his feet into his shoes, and with one last uneasy glance around the room, exited into the hallway along with Aerith. She pushed the wedge back into place with her toe, pulled the door shut firmly, and replaced the orange tape. They set off for the greenhouse. "Did you enjoy your time with Kairi?" she asked. "She's been wanting to get to know you better for a while now."

Roxas nodded. "Yeah. It was – nice. She's a lot of fun." His next smile was warmer. "She reminds me in a lot of ways of Axel. There's a real similarity between them."

Aerith agreed, laughing softly. "You can certainly tell that they're siblings." Her gaze became curious. "I'm sure this has been asked enough times already, but how are you holding up?"

Roxas sighed. "I miss him. I – I didn't know how much I would. I wish I could just go down there and – and climb into bed with him and sleep with _him." _He was silent for several steps, contemplative. "I know he'd make sure I was okay."

Aerith smiled fondly. "I'm sure he would, but I was actually talking about your injuries, and your mind. Not just with the sleep-walking – how are you coping with the fact that we can't find the man that did this to you?"

Roxas looked at her blankly. "Aerith. One disaster at a time, _please. _If I try thinking of everything all at once, I'll go crazy. I – " He turned to face forward, almost startled to be thinking of the attacker again, outside of simply muttering about what an asshole he was. In this insane existence of one thing after another, the mystery attack, the violence and the horror of it all, had been lost, shunted back behind the various other pains and fears and happenings. "I don't know." He really didn't. He thought about it, and couldn't muster up any particular feelings on the subject. "It all happened so quickly. The only thing that really bothers me is that Axel was hurt. I'm not afraid that it's going to happen again, because… well, I don't think it will. The guy that did it was – so obviously crazy. He's got this thing against me without even knowing me…" He frowned. "I guess I just don't expect him back, so there's no need to worry about it – right?"

Aerith's eyebrows lowered, expression tinged with concern, just as it always was these days when Roxas was within range. "I hope this doesn't mean you're not going to continue to be careful."

Roxas snuffed a small laugh. "Aerith, I've had enough, okay? I'm so sick of being hurt, and things being shaken up – you have no idea how much I just want a nice, peaceful life right now. I don't even plan to leave the castle anytime soon, unless it's with Axel. I just…" He closed his eyes, shook his head. "I've had it with the dramas. I'm not going to do _anything _that's going to stir up trouble." His expression hardened, determination rising up, underlaid with desperation, exhaustion making it so hard to remain positive, but his heart was begging for a break from the pain, his mind pleading for some rest. "This is it, okay? All the bad stuff is out of the way now. I've had my lifetime's share, and I'll figure out a way to make these dreams go away, and life is going to be _good, _just like Axel promised."

Aerith frowned. "Dreams?"

Roxas was confused. "Huh?"

Her eyebrows rising, she said, "You said 'make these dreams go away'. Are you having bad dreams?"

The blond scowled. "I didn't say anything about dreams. I'm not _having _bad dreams."

She looked uncertain. "Roxas…"

"Look, I – I don't remember any dreams, okay?" His voice was sharp. "If I said it, I didn't mean it, because in order to want to get rid of them, I'd have to _remember _them, and I don't. I don't even know when the last time I _had _a dream was, at all. So forget it."

Aerith was quiet for a moment, before shrugging. "If you say so." She let the issue drop, although Roxas wondered tiredly if sometime in the next few days he'd have someone new asking him about dreams – Vincent perhaps, or even Axel. Aerith had that air about her – she wasn't going to just let this melt away. She would push, and push, and in the end, Roxas would snap. He could feel it, this, this churning turmoil, the sudden upsurge of nausea that told him this wouldn't be left to let lie.

They reached the greenhouse, and Aerith left him to eat the sandwiches she'd constructed while she pottered around. Every now and then he would catch a glimpse of her through the thick foliage, hear the murmur of her voice as she alternately spoke to the plants and hummed quietly. He was reminded with a wrench of his own mother acting in a similar manner, and wondered exasperatedly when this sort of thing would just be normal. He prayed for the day to when he could look upon Aerith's behaviour as just – Aerith herself, instead of having memories surface of someone else.

He sighed, half-heartedly biting the rectangle of bread in his hands, sitting on a low bench with his feet stretched out, ankles hooked one over the other. The tiredness was catching up; he'd gone for too many hours without restful sleep. He ached all over, ribs catching with almost every breath. He knew it was time for him to take some of the painkillers that he'd been sent home with, but they would put him to sleep – he was afraid that if they sank him down too low, he wouldn't be able to rise up again soon enough. He didn't want to give his subconscious any more time in control than it had already stolen.

When Aerith came to check on him, he was resting with his head on his knees, food discarded, breathing slowly. His eyelids hung at half-mast, the urge to stay awake growing more difficult to maintain. Fear fluttered in his belly, but there was no way for him to keep fighting this. It was dragging him under, piece by piece.

She sat, removing one soiled gardening glove, and touched his shoulder. "You should really try and get some rest. We've set up Demyx's room for you until Axel gets back tomorrow. Cloud took his valuables, so nothing will get broken that can't be replaced if you try to get out again."

Dread filled him. "You're going to lock me in."

She sighed, patted him. "I'm afraid of what will happen if we don't, Roxas. It's too dangerous for you to be roaming around, I'm sorry. But this time," she smiled, "no keyblades. That's going to make all the difference, I'm sure." She pulled something from the pocket on her dress, rustled around for a minute. Roxas lifted his head slightly, glanced over and grunted with recognition of the box she was holding. She was going to ply him with the drugs from the hospital. Great. Just what he hadn't wanted. "These will knock you out," she was saying softly. "I know that might not sound ideal right now, but we'll keep checking up on you to make sure you're not doing anything you're not supposed to, and if all goes well…" She held out her hand, met his blue gaze expectantly. He grimaced and held out his palm, watched the tiny white pills drop onto his skin, one and then two. She picked up the bottle of water she'd brought along, unscrewed the cap. "If all goes well, you'll sleep for the rest of today and all through the night." She smiled, handing over the bottle. "Wouldn't that be nice? And then, you'd just need to wake up, and Axel would be back."

Roxas placed them on his tongue, tasted bitterness, felt the chalkiness wash away down his throat as he filled his mouth and swallowed. The thought of disappearing and then reappearing with Axel within reach was soothing. He didn't trust things to go as smoothly as all that, but, well, he'd done it now, hadn't he? He'd taken the pills. That on top of the dragging weariness he already felt would ensure that he was gone for a while, lost inside the darkness, where not even heartbeats could be heard anymore.

He supposed that, even if he ended up going crazy – at least Axel _would _be around. He didn't mind, if he could hide away in the redhead's arms come the morning.

He just hoped that nothing would go wrong, to keep him from coming home.


	31. Chapter 31

**A/N: **Hooray! Chapter finished :D Nothing much to say about this one, except I hope Be gets to it in time, and everyone else just enjoys it :) Cheers for awesome reviews, guys.

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CHAPTER THIRTY-ONE

Cloud sat in the dirt, leaning against his bike, oblivious to the brightly burning sunset except to study the way it lit up the dog-tags dangling from his hand. Small bursts of light blinked as they twisted slowly, his face set into a pensive frown. Blue eyes slid in and out of focus, switching between the present and the past, memories floating up and subsiding into darkness.

"Found you." He jolted, swaying forward, blinking owlishly up at the black-clad woman approaching from the castle side of the little hill his shed resided upon.

"Hey, Tifa," Cloud greeted quietly, gaze already falling away, returning to the invitingly glinting metal.

She smiled hopefully, hands folding behind her back, rocking on her heels slightly. "Can you stand some company?"

He shrugged a shoulder, grunted. Taking this to be her invitation, Tifa lowered herself to the ground beside him. She crossed her legs, resting her hands upon her knees, and took a deep breath of the cooling twilight air. The breeze tousled Cloud's spikes silently, sending threads of Tifa's hair drifting to the side. "I can see why you like it out here," she said after a while. "It's peaceful." When the man didn't respond, she turned her head, watched him. "Cloud – how've you been?"

She settled her elbows on her thighs, leaned forward in the answering silence, reached out a finger to touch the necklace. Finally, Cloud reacted, jerked it with a jingle out of range. "Don't," he said shortly. He wrapped it up into his fist, hiding it away, irritated that she insisted on disturbing his peace. "Shouldn't you be off somewhere with Yuffie?"

The brunette shrugged lightly. "She's not speaking to me at the moment. I keep taking your side when she gets angry about the soldier business."

Cloud's impatience faltered. He lowered his face, twisted it to one side. "I'm sorry," he muttered. "You shouldn't have to defend me."

"It's okay," the woman smiled wearily. "She'll come around in her own time. I can understand the shock. I'm being patient. It's not worth losing a friend over."

Cloud scowled faintly. "Try telling _her _that."

"I have," Tifa replied simply. "Several times."

The blond sighed. "You shouldn't be fighting my battles for me."

She snorted. "I'm not. You're a big boy. I just say what I want when she starts steaming all over again." A small smile stole over her features, sly, eyes twinkling. "I can think of someone who _would _fight your battles for you, though, if only you would let him."

Cloud's chin came up from his fist, expression blank with incomprehension. "Him?"

Tifa sighed, rolled her dark eyes heavenward. "Could you _be _more clueless, Cloud, dear?"

His eyebrows rose slightly. "You're talking about Leon, aren't you?" He shook his head with mild frustration. "Believe me, he's the last person I want fighting for me."

She pouted. "You let Zack," she pointed out. Cloud smiled wryly.

"That was less about 'letting', and more being steam-rolled by good intentions." He shook his head. "Besides, I don't _need _taking care of. Zack's one thing, but Leon…"

Tifa cocked her head to the side, tucked some hair behind her ear, knees drawing up to her chest. "Is it maybe that you don't want to look weak in front of him?"

Cloud rolled his eyes. "Since when do I want to look weak in front of anyone?" He grimaced, looking at the dirt, shifting against the bike. "You know, Tif, I'm not totally dense. I can see what you're trying to do. You and Yuffie kind of made yourselves clear when you kept trying to get me and Leon to make-out…"

"Psh, trying? No. That was not effort you saw, Cloud. Just the merest suggestion. No, once we start _trying, _you'll find yourselves locked in a cupboard together."

"I'd like you to leave me alone," he said quietly, making her blink. She frowned.

"Cloud?"

"You need – to stop. Leave me alone. Go satisfy your little fetishes elsewhere, Tif, I'm serious." He sighed heavily, lifted his fist, loosened the fingers and together they watched as the dog-tags came tumbling back out to swing against the backdrop of the lowering sun. Streaks of golden and pink tainted the horizon, darkening quickly. "You know about Sephiroth now. That should be enough to make you cut that sort of behaviour out," he said calmly. "I'm not a doll for you to dress up. You can't just giggle and push me at Leon like we're in the middle of some high-school dance. I'm a grown man, with a hell of a lot on my mind, and I'd – I'd appreciate it if you just let the Leon stuff go."

She was silent for a minute, an unhappy look upon her face. "I suppose then," she said at last, in a small voice, holding her shoes and rocking slightly, "that this isn't the best time to tell you that Leon wants you?"

He huffed in annoyance. "Tifa, what did I _just _say? You don't know that at all, you're just being – "

"No!" She ceased her movements, brought her hands up urgently to wave in front of her body. "I mean, Leon wanted to _talk_ to you. He's been looking for you – I was helping, when I found you… here."

Cloud pinched the bridge of his nose. "You couldn't have told me this right at the start, could you?"

"Well, you've been gone a while anyway," she replied defensively, "and I wanted to know how you were doing. It's not like we talk anymore."

"Tifa – " The necklace twisted with his agitation. "I have got – _so much _to think about right now. Please don't make this worse by making me feel guilty."

"I'm not trying to," she said, voice lowering to become soft. "I just get worried about you, is all. I want you to be happy, Cloud."

He scowled. "Happiness isn't just something someone can do _for _me. You all want me to be happy, but you're forgetting that I'm not just some blank slate you can pump the emotion you want into. If I'm going to be happy, _properly, _I'm going to do it by my_self. _No one fighting my battles for me, no one bugging me, no one trying to get inside my _head._ Okay?"

"Well, maybe if you showed a little more of what was going on inside," the woman argued, flaring up once more, "we wouldn't have to go digging and upset you. It's hard to just stand by when someone you care about is obviously having _trouble,_ Cloud. Don't blame me for wanting to know, or anyone else, for that matter! It's all your own fault. If you want to be left alone, just _say _so. Don't wait for us all to figure it out based solely on the sound of your silence!"

Cloud's hands dropped to the dust. The necklace got dirty, making him hiss, snatching it up to hurriedly polish. "Look at you," continued Tifa more calmly. "You're acting like that thing is some kind of sentimental keepsake. It belongs to a _dead _man, Cloud, one that didn't treat you well enough, and you're so busy fawning over it, you're completely missing the lives that are still going on around you."

"I'm not missing out on anything," he said sharply, not looking over. "And it _is _a sentimental keepsake. What the hell else would you call it? Why does no one get that I'm in _mourning?"_

"You don't seem so sad," she replied, lips pursing, eyebrows rising, expression daring him to correct her. She rested her chin on her fingertips and waited.

"Do I need to be crying to be sad?" he muttered after a beat. "That's not exactly my style, Tif."

"No," she responded sarcastically, "your _style _is to bottle it all up and let the world pass you by while you sulk off into a corner." She stood abruptly, brushing off her pants crisply. "Well, Cloud, there's only so long that you can get away with that sort of thing. I don't know why you were so adamant on staying when all you do while you're here is mope around. You could have left with Zack if that's what you wanted, and he'd have been there to comfort you and put up with your misery." She fixed him with a hard look. "There's nothing wrong with being sad, Cloud. There's nothing wrong with getting depressed, and there's _certainly _nothing wrong with mourning Sephiroth's death, no matter how terrible he might have been as a soldier. But if all you're going to do is wallow, then sooner or later, all this sympathy being thrown your way is going to dry up, and when you eventually _do _decide you want to wake up again, there won't be anyone around to help you celebrate." She planted a hand on her hip. "Leon's in the library when you're ready for him. That is, if you can tear yourself away from that trinket."

Snippy final comment imparted, she swung around and left, sneakers quietly crunching through the dust and rocks. All too quickly, she was gone from sight, and Cloud was alone again. Before she arrived, the solitude had been all he wanted. Now, it just felt hollow. The sun had left the face of Hollow Bastion, leaving deepening darkness, the spread of lights pricking and sparkling down the mountain. The bike felt warm against the back of his zip-up sweater, heated by his own energy. The dog-tags jangled softly as he lifted them into the dying light and stared.

At last, after several minutes, he scowled. "Don't they think I _want _to be happy?" Grimacing, he climbed to his feet, hooked the necklace over his head and tucked it under his shirt. He wheeled the bike away, and went to meet Leon in the castle.

-------

Vincent's steps were quiet, his motions quick and graceful, a hand on the butt of his pistol, the other hanging loosely by his side as he traversed the castle halls. So far, nothing untoward had occurred, a miracle almost in itself with the young blond around, and theoretically sleeping, no less. He had checked on the teen twice already, in the hours leading up to midnight. Both times, Demyx's room had remained untouched by the slumbering madness, the door whole, the boy sleeping. Perhaps it was the pills that Aerith had made him take, or simply the exhaustion finally catching up to him, but Roxas had been silent and still, chest rising and falling with steady slowness.

His path took him by DiZ's study. Vincent paused and knocked lightly. From within, the thick, _"Come," _was issued. He pushed the door open, entering the circular room. DiZ was seated at a large desk, a scatter of pages littering its surface, mostly filled with illegible scrawling. He glanced up, visible golden eye flashing briefly. "Ah, Vincent." He returned his attention to his work, pen moving quickly. "How goes the patrol?"

"Everything's fine," the man replied quietly. "So far. Roxas is sleeping soundly."

"Hmph. About time," DiZ muttered. "The boy has caused more trouble in the few short weeks he's been in Hollow Bastion than Demyx has in an entire year. And that's counting the incident in my personal laboratory. I can see why Vexen ended up leaving. The idiot is maddening."

"Roxas' troubles, at least, are out of his control," Vincent murmured. "When the day comes that he can exist without anything going wrong, I'm sure no one will be more relieved than he."

"Yes, I'm sure," the other man sighed. He paused, massaged his forehead with his fingertips through the bandages. Vincent wondered idly if he could actually feel it, or if the motion was merely automatic. "However, whether he means to be or not, the boy _is _trouble."

"How are things going with Twilight Town?"

DiZ pursed his lips in displeasure. "I have Sora and Luxord looking into it. I've even employed some of the junior technicians to run scans on each item in the dark room before they are inserted into the network. It is worrying. I am not happy."

"It sounds complicated," Vincent observed. "Are you sure it isn't one of the full technicians causing the disturbance?"

"Well, of course it's _one _of the technicians," DiZ scowled. "It certainly isn't Zanarkand sneaking in whilst we're asleep and fiddling with the simulation. However, there isn't a single person I want to even consider accusing. It's far too delicate at this stage. It would be impossible to track the culprit down if I alerted them before I was prepared to take action."

Vincent inclined his head. "I'll just continue my rounds, then."

"I assume this means you haven't run into anyone?"

"I saw Naminé out of bed. She claimed to be going to the bathroom, but was in an awkward location to be doing so."

"You don't suspect her of anything problematic?"

The thin man shrugged. "It's difficult to say for sure. I've seen her several times at night since I arrived. It's possible she wanders around frequently, but unless I stay for a longer period of time to watch her, there's no way I can draw a conclusion."

"Hmm." DiZ placed his pen down, folded his fingers together, touching an index to his lips as he considered the information. "I will have to keep an eye on her myself, then. You are still leaving tomorrow?"

Vincent nodded once. "I want to find him. Once Axel has settled back in, and Roxas is being taken care of, I'll go."

"Very well. Continue for now, then. Return to me if anything develops before you leave. Otherwise, I shall see you the next time you grace us with your presence." He lowered his face dismissively. Vincent turned, left the room, continued on his way.

-------

Roxas sat in the sand, building castles shaped like domes, the earth cold like ice, his breaths puffing out gently. He wished for gloves and longer sleeves, but his flannel pants and an old t-shirt of Demyx's were all he had. His nails grew steadily filthier the longer that he played. He hummed softly to himself, and for a long time, the ghost of the little blond-haired boy resided within him. There was nobody in the playground as this time of night, no mothers, no friends, no children, not a single soul to be seen. Roxas contentedly patted the sand to form a tight round roof, fingers casting about idly for a leaf, or a stick, to mount as the castle's proudly flying flag, while the other hand continued to compact the dirt harder.

A hand touched his shoulder, startling him briefly from his child-like state. He glanced up, but saw no one. He frowned, twisted his body, a foot riding up to rest against his inner thigh. He pouted. "Hey, where'd you go?" He cocked his head to the side, eyes scanning the area. "Mommy?"

"_Mommy?" _A voice, alien to him in this hidden realm, surprising him. _"Your mother is dead, Roxas."_

Roxas frowned, pushed back from his sandcastles, leaving tracks. He stood, brushed away the clinging granules of white, stuck his hands on his hips and turned in a slow circle. "I don't see you. Who's there?"

A ripple, off to one side, suggesting motion, but when the blond turned, there was nobody there. An uneasy feeling nagging at the back of his mind told him that this was familiar, this scenario, and fear came bubbling from out of nowhere. He shivered, crouched down. "Leave me alone," he said petulantly, reverting to the little ghost.

"_Why do you sit here, playing in the sand?"_

Roxas twined his fingers into his hair and remained stubbornly silent. Another swell in the nearby air, and he closed his bright blue eyes, face scrunching up into a fearful scowl. "I said leave me _alone. _I don't wanna talk to you!"

A hand seized the top of his head, yanked it back, forcing his eyes back open with a gasp of pain. There was nothing to be seen, but he felt the person in front of him, kneeling between his legs. He pressed his lips together. "I'm not gonna talk to you. I want my mom."

He was studied for a moment. There was a short, humourless laugh. _"Fine, then. Return to your castles. Is your mind always this juvenile?"_

Roxas was released. He flopped onto his back with a startled squeak. When he next sat, he couldn't remember quite what he'd been doing, or thinking. However, there were some mounds nearby, one with a twig jutting out, and Roxas felt the urge to go play.

-------

It was on the other side of midnight that Vincent checked on Roxas a third time. He approached the door, stood outside and listened carefully for a long minute. No sounds issued forth, nothing to suggest activity from the slumberer. Hoping for the boy's sake that this night would continue as undisturbed as it had been, he brought out the key that Aerith had lent him and inserted it into the lock, clicking the tumblers aside, twisting the handle and entering.

It was silent within Demyx's room. The blond musician's belongings remained in the same state that Vincent had seen them earlier, some clothing belonging to Axel piled into one corner much in the same way that he operated within the confines of his own mess of a room. The bed itself, however, was empty. Vincent's eyes shifted slowly, knowing that Roxas was still here, instincts calm and collected, nothing warning of imminent attack. When at last his amber irises rested upon the boy, it was in the tucked-up corner between the wall and the wardrobe. Head tilting to one side, Vincent walked over to him, watchful. Roxas didn't respond to the movement or sound of the footsteps. Not even when the tall man crouched down in front of him did he lift his gaze from its fixed position, emptily focused at the stone floor some feet away. Vincent passed directly through his line of vision, but the blond didn't even blink. The hollows around his eyes were dark beyond even the remaining bruises, a deep, bone-level exhaustion obviously tugging at him physically, though his eyes remained unswervingly open. Vincent frowned, peeled off his glove and reached forward to press his forefingers against the teen's throat, pushing the chin to one side without resistance. Roxas' state was – catatonic. He was like a rag-doll some errant child had discarded for the night, waiting for someone to come and make him live again, if only inside a pretend world.

Vincent was beginning to form doubts about the boy's sanity. Perhaps the only way Roxas could properly function _was _within a false reality – namely, the creation that was Twilight Town. There was a very real possibility that the mental stress was simply too much for his subconscious to handle, in which case, they would all quickly find themselves with a troubling problem. He was certain that the boy _wanted _to stay, wanted to be with Axel – but whether or not his mind could survive the transition was another matter entirely. He was sure that DiZ would have no compunctions in thrusting the boy back inside the simulation, just as he done to all the frightened children those many years ago, in the name of solution.

Roxas' pulse jumped strongly against his fingertips. Vincent withdrew his hand, returned it to its glove, bent closer, trying to engage the boy's focus. The eyes stayed trained, seeing straight through him, as if he'd never entered the room at all.

"Roxas." His voice was low, prodding. He snapped his fingers sharply, knowing from the previous night's attempts that the boy could be roused with enough external stimulation. _"Roxas." _He grabbed the blond, squeezed his upper arms, shook him slightly. At last, Roxas responded, but not to wake up. He hitched in a breath, eyes still blank, dull, unmoving, and jerked himself tighter into the corner.

"I don't wanna _talk _to you," he muttered. Vincent stood, bent down to hook his arms under the blond's. Although Roxas didn't resist, neither did he try to help, and the tall man was forced to drag up every limp, awkward pound.

"Roxas, you need to wake up," he insisted quietly, but it seemed the boy's repertoire had been used up. There were no mumblings this time, no accidental speaking, no proper acknowledgement that he was even alert or present. Vincent grunted, hefted him up and carried him to the bed. He lowered Roxas carefully, frowning. He glanced around, found nothing immediately helpful, shrugged one shoulder and proceeded to try and stir the boy. Roxas' face changed slowly, going from its expressionless state into something more – pouty, Vincent supposed would be an apt description. With one curl of his lower lip, Roxas managed to look half his age and then some. It was like dealing with a child.

It was only when Vincent graduated from cautious shaking to a more aggressive shove that the blond made any positive sign of awareness. His face screwed up, eyebrows drawing together, head snapping from side to side briefly. It was when the dark-haired man decided to cut his losses and simply push Roxas off the bed that the teen woke up.

He hit the ground with a resounding thud, left elbow and wrist cracking against the ground, sending a stab of painful buzzing straight through his entire arm. The sharp yelp informed Vincent that he had got through to the boy. He straightened, circled around to where Roxas lay in a stunned heap, the sheets caught around his shoulder. "Are you awake now?"

Roxas blinked rapidly, gaze rolling in confusion, before coming to rest on the man. Bewilderment seized him, he sucked in a frightened breath and glanced quickly around. "Where am I this time?" he croaked hoarsely, already halfway to panicking. Seeing Demyx's room come into focus, Roxas frowned. "Is – is Axel back yet?"

"It's still too early," Vincent replied. He stood at Roxas' feet and offered a hand down to the blond. "I came to check on you. You were sleep-walking, but you didn't do anything bad. You just sat in the corner. I thought you might prefer the bed."

Roxas reached up slowly, wincing as he sat. Vincent clasped his forearm, pulled him with strength, and in no time at all Roxas was standing in the middle of the cold room, shivering and dazed. His eyes scoured Demyx's belongings uncertainly. "You're sure I didn't do any damage?" he asked. Vincent shook his head.

"Do you remember anything, this time?"

Roxas hesitated, answered negatively. "I never remember. I – I think I might have been dreaming, but… I just can't recall it." He wrapped his arms around his chest, feeling lost and small. "Did I…" He lowered his head. "Did I say anything?"

"Nothing important. Only that you didn't want to talk to me. You weren't very responsive this time."

The boy inhaled through his nose, closed his eyes and nodded. "Okay. So – I mean, now what? Do I keep trying to sleep…?"

"Do you think you can?" Vincent countered. Roxas grimaced uneasily.

"I should… try. I'm still so tired. I can't keep going like this…" He lifted his blue eyes, filled with worry, a sliver of fear that couldn't be kept at bay. "Will you keep checking on me?"

Vincent nodded. "I'll make sure nothing goes wrong."

Roxas pressed his lips together, gazed over at the bed like it was some dark, unknown foe. "Okay, then," he said softly. "I guess… I'll go back to sleep."

"Take care of yourself in there." Vincent pressed a finger to his own head, amber eyes steady. "It can be a war-zone."

"I think I've had enough of _that _for one lifetime," Roxas mumbled. He sighed, scraped his fingers through his hair. "Axel's coming back. He'll be here soon. In the morning. Everything's going to be fine."

"He can't save you," the dark-haired man murmured, moving over to the door and pulling it open. "Don't be too hopeful."

Roxas glared. "He'll make me feel better, at least. I know he will. Right now – a little comfort is really all I want." He bent, picked up the spilled sheet, pushed it back onto the mattress, trying to keep his growing unhappiness and frustration at bay. "Good night," he said shortly over his shoulder, climbing back into Demyx's bed. Vincent inclined his head.

"I hope so." He pulled the door shut, and left Roxas to his restless unconsciousness.

-------

Roxas was left to sleep late the next day. When at last his door pushed open, it was done quietly, so as to not wake the slumberer. Footsteps passed over the stone floor, a bag placed down in one corner. A weight sank one side of the mattress moments later, legs lifting up, head lowering back onto Zexion's empty half of the bed. Green eyes stared, minutes passing, and Roxas slept on, exhausted body snatching up all the respite that could be had. He was on his stomach, the side of his face pressed into the pillow, mouth open slightly, breathing slowly. One slender finger reached out and, unable to contain itself, drew a slow line down his cheek. Roxas' eyebrows twitched, one leg hitching up a little, the flannel pants riding from below his knee to above it. The finger found his kneecap and drew small circles, nail scraping slightly at the skin.

Awareness began to weave through the teen, creeping on slow tendrils into his lungs to draw a deeper, quicker breath, into his brow to form a faint frown, into his eyes to pry them open, gummy and fluttering. The finger had shifted slightly, stroking the side of his thigh. He coughed weakly, blinked, and saw red. He squirmed, eyelids dropping low again, and lips came forward to press against his own, warm, thin and soft. The frown smoothed from his features, his grip loosening around the pillow. When a tongue came questing, entering his mouth to touch against his own, he scowled, stiffened. Around the sliding muscle, he muttered, "Axel?"

The tongue withdrew, and a soft chuckle filled his ears. "Who else would be kissing you in bed, Roxie? Is there something you're not telling me?"

His eyes struggled open, bleary, head thick and fuzzy, heart jumping. "Axel?"

The pale face came into view, whiter than it had been the last time they were within the castle, tattoos more stark against the skin, lips curled into a half-mocking, half-affectionate smile. "The one and only, kid. You got it memorised?" He lowered his face to Roxas', pressing their noses together. "How's it going, Roxie?" he asked softly.

His response was a pair of arms winding around his neck, fast and clumsy, tugging him down, chests flush against one another. Roxas buried his face into the joining between Axel's shoulder and neck and breathed deeply. The redhead fought back the grunt of pain that fought to be loosed, motions careful, cautious, eyes lowering uncertainly to the boy, who quivered silently in his grasp. "I missed you, too. It's been too long, huh?" Roxas could only nod, making Axel frown. "Hey, you know, I was kidding," he said gently, shifting the blond's grip slightly so he could lay back down comfortably on the mattress, shoulder rigid from all the dressings the nurses had forced upon him before allowing him to walk away from the world of white walls and metal beds.

"I'm not," Roxas replied hoarsely. He drew back slightly, allowing Axel his first decent look at his face. He watched the redhead's expression fall slightly. A hand came up to cup his face.

"What's wrong?"

Roxas' smile was worried. "You sure this isn't just a dream? Because right now, the phrase 'too good to be true' is running through my head."

Axel was blank for a moment. Then, an eyebrow rose, thin and crimson, mouth twisting into a smirk, muscles relaxing as he lifted his head to hover over the blond, voice lowering. "You often have dreams about me, Rox?"

Roxas blinked, once, twice, then burst into sudden, relieved laughter. "It _is _you!"

Axel was taken aback by the strength of the reaction, but was grinning seconds later, poking the teen in the hip. "Of _course, _Roxas. You don't think _anything _could mimic _me, _do you?" He grew cocky. "Not even your _wildest _dreams could come up with half the reality." He settled his chest carefully onto the blond's. "So, I guess I'm just good enough to be true, then."

"Better," Roxas gasped, wiping at his eyes, giggling faintly. He took a deep breath, regained some composure, and smiled broadly. "Definitely better than 'just good enough'."

Axel scrunched up his nose. "Aww. He's so cute. It's why I love him so." Before Roxas could respond, Axel planted a hand beside his head and leaned down for another kiss, deeper than before, with the blond's fully conscious participation. As they settled into familiar patterns and rhythms, the touch of flesh on flesh becoming once again something to expect and delight in, Roxas felt the hard knots that had built within him over the last week melt away, swept clean by the fire that Axel willingly shared. They hadn't been alone together since that first night in hospital, and hadn't kissed like this since that last night in the castle. A tingling set up beneath his skin, spreading warmth to every cell of Roxas' existence, and he couldn't help but destroy their lip-lock with a large grin that couldn't be fought off. Axel resigned himself to the side of his face, leaving tiny, light kisses along the skin, while Roxas' eyes slipped shut and the smile grew and grew.

"Wow, you're happy to see me," Axel muttered, "and that's not even innuendo-boy striking again."

"I'm – happy," Roxas agreed breathily, as the redhead's mouth slid down his throat.

"Hm, I wonder if I could make you even happier…" Roxas raised an eyebrow, turned his had slightly to where Axel eyed him with a mixture of hope and desire. In response to the look, Axel shrugged. "I've been Roxie-deprived for far too long. I need to make it up somehow, all in one nice boost."

"How – romantic," the blond replied wryly. Axel's face split with his grin, as he pressed his forehead back against Roxas'.

"And _there's _the Roxie we all know and love. Hard-to-get, right til the very end."

"End of _what,_ exactly?"

Axel's lips lowered to his ear, voice a husky whisper. "How about we begin, and you find out?" Roxas' eyes closed of their own accord. He bit his lip, the tingling spreading to his fingertips. He nodded jerkily, very suddenly not in control anymore. Axel grinned with lecherous joy, and lowered back down to choose a section of throat to begin sucking with abandon, sending bolts of pleasure mixed with happiness through the blond. Low, breathy moans filled the room, soft in the silence, Axel's fingers working their way under the hem of his shirt, circling his naval, caressing, careful of his ribs, up along the side of his body. Roxas let out a weak, contented sigh.

Which was when Demyx burst in.

"_Roxie! Roxie! Axel's – " _He screeched to a halt, eyes springing wide at the sight of Axel half-draped across the teen's sleep-rumpled form, sheets shoved down, the redhead's hand halfway up Roxas' chest already, a large section of stomach revealed. Both heads had swung around, startled by the entrance, though Axel's expression was quickly darkening to something more murderous.

Demyx blinked. "That's hot," he informed the kiss-swollen duo. He wheeled around. "I need to be alone now."

Roxas' eyes went round with panic, mind snapping back from his flesh and into itself. He struggled to sit with the redhead weighing him down. "W-wait, wait! We're coming! I mean, we're coming out! Like – it's breakfast time! We're not staying!"

"However," Axel growled, releasing him and crawling quickly to the edge of the bed, one leg already slinging down, "you _will _be, in many bloody pieces across the _floor."_

"No, no! Stay!" Demyx backed away swiftly, fumbling for the door handle. "Stay!" He winked. "I won't tell anyone, I promise." He slammed the door and took off running, giggling hysterically as Axel lunged. The man wrenched the handle, stalked out several steps and bellowed, _"You think he's going to let me touch him knowing you know what we're doing?! Demyx, you ASSHOLE!"_

Roxas groaned, still on the bed, sitting with his back against the wall, drawing his knees up and burying his face into them. Axel returned sheepishly. "I'm right, aren't I?" The blond nodded, embarrassed beyond anything he'd yet discovered. The redhead sighed, scratched the back of his neck. "Well, you can tell I'm back, can't you? Demyx goes instantly back into jacktard mode."

"We _are _in his room," Roxas pointed out. Axel tilted his head to one side, glanced around.

"Well, that's true… which brings me to my next question..." He frowned, met the blue gaze, asked, "Why are you sleeping in here? What's wrong with my room?"

Roxas lowered his gaze, stuttering, "O-oh, well, it was just that…" He thought quickly, forced a smile, attempting coy. "Why? Jealous I'll like being between Dem's sheets better than yours?"

Axel hesitated before smirking, climbed back onto the bed, left hand curled against his stomach to protect his shoulder, crawling slowly, seductively up towards the blond. "Well, if you do, I know plenty of ways to convert you."

Roxas gave a small smile, having victoriously reignited the redhead's libido, internally rolling his eyes and storing away the fact that the best distraction was a lustful one. Axel's expression grew smug, as he drew Roxas' legs out flat, climbed along them and settled back to sit on his thighs. The blond folded his arms, tilted his head to the side wryly. "Yes? Can I help you?"

"Mm, it's fine, you've helped enough already," Axel murmured. He leaned forward, licked the side of Roxas' nose, grinning wickedly at the slight, involuntary shudder that shivered briefly through the boy. He pushed a hand through the flaxen spikes, cupped the back of Roxas' head and pulled him close, kissing him hard. When he pulled back again, licking his lips, he added, "Aerith and Leon already told me what happened since you came back. I sort of wanted to hear it from you, but… you being the sly dog you are just gave me a great excuse to make-out with you some more." He looked positively gleeful at his cleverness and gain, while Roxas' eyes gradually widened with realisation.

"You _tricked_ me!"

"Aha, did I? Or did _you_ trick us _both?"_

Roxas fell into confusion. "You – that doesn't even… but…" His expression sank, eyes growing wary. "So, you know? About – what I did?"

Axel tipped his head to one side in confirmation. "They let me know, showed me the damage in my room, that sort of thing." He grew stern. "No one blames you, Roxie, you know that, right? This isn't about you doing bad things, it's about you not having control over yourself at night." He gave a half-smile. "And while I completely advocate that in certain cases… I know that this is upsetting you." He raised an eyebrow, hooked a finger under the blond's chin, forcing him to look up again. "Ah, Roxie, you look ashamed… There's nothing wrong with you, okay? This is just a technical glitch. We can fix it, I already told you that, remember? So cut out the beaten-dog look, and help me start thinking of some answers." He took in the petulant expression, pressed his nose against Roxas'. "I know you've been trying, but this time we'll try together, okay? We'll find the heart of this, and stop it." He sighed, wrapped Roxas up in his arms, drew him unresisting to rest against his chest, hand wandering up and down his back, pushing under the shirt to draw patterns on the skin. "You know I'll take care of you."

"I don't want taking care of," Roxas mumbled, not entirely truthfully. "I'm not a child."

"Mm, good thing, too. I wouldn't want to be pedo," Axel agreed. Roxas smirked, nudged him with his forehead.

"I already think you are. I know what you were doing, watching me all those years. I think we both know you didn't wait for me to be legal to have dirty thoughts about me."

"Ahaha, he's sharp like a whip," Axel responded dryly. "Well, at least you're legal _now, _riiight? My big eighteen-year-old?" He chuckled as Roxas rolled his eyes, before returning to their embrace. "I know you're tough, Rox," he said quietly, directly into the teen's ear, the vibrations of his throat passing into Roxas' shoulder. "But everyone needs taking care of. Not by the world, like some charity case, but by someone that _cares." _He smiled gently, kissed the boy's temple. "And I think we've established that I fit that role perfectly."

Roxas nodded slowly, frowning, turned his head slightly to rest more comfortably against the bone of Axel's collar. "I'm glad you're back," he said softly. "I was going stupid without you around."

"Of course you were. I _am _the brains of this pairing."

Roxas squinted up at him. "Oh, really? What does that make me?"

Axel pretended to think. "Well, I'm the pants, without a doubt. I'm the sex. Definitely the charming one. What does Roxie get left with…? The cute? I don't know, I'm pretty cute myself… all those nurses seemed to think so…" Roxas lifted an eyebrow, shooting him a warning glance. "Okay, okay, you get to be the cute." Axel sighed heavily. "And the adorable. And the sensible one, that's for sure. You're way nicer than me, and you've got this sweet little way of torturing me over Naminé…"

"Who?" Roxas asked blithely. Axel ducked his head, tongue darting out against the blond's cheek.

"That's what I like to hear," he growled approvingly. "I left you two alone for two whole days, you know. I even saw her this morning, and refrained from asking if you'd impregnated her in my absence."

"Oh, the strength that must've taken," Roxas said sarcastically.

"Well, that and the fact that she's as sick-skinny as ever, which made it pretty obvious…"

"You never studied sex-ed in school, did you?"

A leer. "I learn better from experience." As his mind caught up with the statement, he froze. "I mean…"

"And you call yourself the brains…"

Axel grinned guiltily. "Maybe we can… share that one."

Roxas considered, then leaned up to peck the man on the lips. "Deal." He rolled his eyes. "Now, how about we get out of here before Demyx tells the whole world we're having sex?"

"Well… we wouldn't want Dem to be a _liar, _now, would we?" Axel replied hopefully.

"Oh, no, not a liar," Roxas reassured, patting his chest. "Just grossly misinformed."

One pouting, the other smug, a whole range of other emotions swimming within each, contentment coming up as the winner both times, they climbed from the bed, and went arm-in-arm to ruin Demyx's fun.


	32. Chapter 32

**A/N: **_(performs victory dance) (dies). _I feel like I've been hit by a truck :S Sorry for the wait guys – what was that, a hiatus for me:P I went for a stay in Mental Block City, and the walls there – well, let's just say, I got chased by dogs trying to escape. (Isn't it funny how that kind of looks like the name of an asylum?) So, without further ado, I'mma go curl up in the corner and expire.

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CHAPTER THIRTY-TWO

Roxas couldn't quite get over his elation at having Axel back. It felt as if, with the redhead finally there again, the two of them back in the castle, everything had settled back down into a smooth line. The jumping, jittering exhaustion was gone, replaced with something so close to peaceful it was intoxicating.

During that day, they were rarely separate – Axel, not yet returning to his regular duties until the next day, tagged along with the resumption of Roxas' training under Zexion. Demyx, with a shift in the dark room, wasn't able to be there – probably a good thing, Roxas supposed, Axel's disgruntled disappointment still hovering.

Every time the redhead was able, he was touching Roxas, stroking his hair, massaging his neck absently while Zexion spoke, holding him in his lap while they watched some demonstration or another. Roxas still didn't understand terribly much of what the slender, slate-haired man was saying, but bits and pieces of information were sinking slowly beneath his skin, the technical language becoming gradually more recognisable.

Mostly, he spent most of his attention on Axel, while trying to look like he was listening. This was the first time in a week that they were actually just able to co-exist, without drama, without frustration. It was… so nice, to be held again, and know that the redhead was _there. _No more separation, no more angst – anything that went wrong now, he at least didn't have to handle by himself. The help from the others just wasn't the same as the support he got from having Axel's warmth ever-present. Something in him was – calmer, now. The instant he'd woken up, and realised that the wait was over, he'd… he'd relaxed. He felt like, if he went to bed now, all he'd do was sleep. No wandering, no speaking, no vanishing… Just – dreamless sleep.

Dinner came. They sat at their regular table, the group complete again, Roxas leaning against Axel contentedly. His appetite was small, stomach faintly queasy from the tiredness that continued to plague him. He zoned out from the various conversations taking place, allowed words to mix and hum, until the noise of the hall was just one great medley designed to soothe. The sensation was… It brought to mind that first night at the end of his imprisonment in Twilight Town, what felt like a lifetime ago now, when he'd got home after smacking into Axel after work. That feeling of being able to let go once he stepped through the door, leaving the outside world to itself, his woes and worries with it. It was the smell of cooking, the sound of his mother's voice, her small hands… small, covered, clawed hands…

Roxas gasped, jerked, eyes flashing open, not even aware he'd closed them. Axel peered down inquisitively. "You okay?" His voice was a rumble against Roxas' shoulder. The blond nodded, eyebrows knitting together, heart thundering.

"Yeah, just… dropped off a little."

Axel smiled. "You should let yourself go. I'm here to make sure nothing goes wrong, remember?"

Roxas was uneasy. He straightened, running a hand through his hair. "Nah. It's okay. I don't really… feel like it."

Axel raised an eyebrow, but didn't pursue the matter. Larxene, sitting on the other side of the table following the exchange, did. "What could go wrong while you're _sleeping?" _she asked sceptically. "What's up, Virginal? Why have you spent the last couple days looking like you got hit by a truck, anyway?" She leaned forward, grinning cockily. "Does it have anything to do with you and trashing Axel's room? What'd you do, go nuts?"

Axel glared. "Wow, Larxene, you sure know how to lighten a conversation, don't you? Mind your own damn business."

"Hah!" She smirked. "You boys owe me, remember? I saved _both _your asses from Mister Silver-Hair, and that means I _own _you. So tell me what I want to hear, and maybe I'll let you off the hook."

"And here I thought you were displaying signs of actually _owning _a heart," Axel replied sarcastically. "If I'd known you were expecting something in return, I might have taken my chances with him."

"And then poor little Roxie would be without a boyfriend," she replied, voice dripping with sweetness. "Oh, wait, no he wouldn't. He'd have a _new _one."

"Larxene," Zexion frowned, Demyx sitting on his knees in a bid to 'hide' from Axel, who had yet to acknowledge him. "Leave them alone."

"Oh, fine, everyone gang up on me," she sighed. "I just wanted to know why the squirt's having trouble."

"I'm just having problems sleeping," Roxas said, struggling to maintain his calm. "It's been… keeping me up."

She snorted. "That's it? Sleeping problems? Boy, you really aren't the toughest kid around, are you?" She adopted a babyish voice, eyes wide and moist, making the blond scowl. "You get some bad dreams, little Roxie?"

"Leave me alone. You don't know what it's like," he muttered. She rolled her eyes.

"Oh, what, you're the only one that has nightmares? What, are you missing your mommy too bad or something?"

"Hey, _fuck you," _he snarled, standing suddenly and slamming the table. She blinked, jerking back, not expecting the venom in his eyes. "You keep your _fucking _mouth _shut _about my mother. You don't speak at all!"

Axel was on his feet in an instant, wrapping his hands around the blond's shoulders. "Roxie, Roxie, calm down, it's okay!"

He was breathing hard through his teeth, flecks of spit hitting the table with each heaving gust. Then he swayed, caught his head in one hand, bewilderment flooding through. "I…"

"It's okay." Axel gently squeezed his shoulders. Most activity around the hall had ceased, Roxas' outburst loud and aggressive. At the Committee table, Leon and Cloud both frowned, Aerith looking worried. People were staring. Roxas lowered his head, felt beads of sweat forming across his brow, grimaced at the suddenly bitter tang at the back of his tongue as his stomach gave a lurch. He allowed himself to be guided back down to his chair, confused and dizzy. "I'm sorry," Roxas mumbled.

Larxene blinked several times, pinned by the glares of the men at the table, even Luxord, who up until then had been absorbed in reading a newspaper. "Hey, don't look at me like that," she said defensively. "I didn't mean to break him."

"You didn't break him," responded Axel coldly. "But you _were _a bitch, as per usual."

She grew irritated. "Hey, if the kid isn't going to share, it's only natural I draw my own conclusions. So get off my back. He's not the only one of us suffering – he's not the only one that's lost. So he needs to stop acting like maybe he _is, _and get his head straight." She pursed her lips, stood, smoothed her hair back. "I'll see you assholes later. I've got work to do." She walked from the hall, a swing to her hips. Axel glared until she was gone, before turning his softening gaze down to the shivering blond.

"Roxas?" he asked quietly. "Do you want to go lie down?"

"No!" He sat up sharply, wiped his face. "No, I'm sorry, I – I shouldn't have snapped like that." He shook his head. "I don't know, I just – she got under my skin. I don't care anymore. It was dumb."

Axel's eyes darted up to the others at the table. Demyx made a helpless sort of face and shrugged, while Zexion frowned. Luxord raised an eyebrow. "Don't mind Larxene," the man said after a beat. "She's got her own problems. She's not very tolerant of other people being in distress more than she is."

"What problems does _Larx _have?" Axel retorted. "I mean, aside from the obvious."

Luxord shrugged, going back to his paper. "Not my place to say."

"Fine, keep your secrets," he grumbled. He looked over at Roxas, eyebrows knitted. The other occupants of the hall were gradually returning to their meals, the din resurfacing slowly. "You okay?" Axel asked softly. Roxas sighed, didn't know whether to nod or shake his head.

"I feel like crap," he said bluntly. "My head is just about swimming, but I don't want to go to sleep. I thought with you here I'd be okay, but…" He scowled, rolled his shoulders, feeling as though there was something creeping on prickled feet up his spine. "I feel weird."

"You sure look it," Demyx chirped. Blue and green eyes narrowed, making him cover his mouth. "Kidding?"

Axel rolled his eyes, shook his head, rubbed Roxas' back soothingly. He leaned in towards the blond's ear. "Hey, how about we go for a walk? Unless you're still hungry?"

Roxas closed his eyes, nodded. "A walk… sounds nice. I need to clear my head."

Axel stood first, helping the teen to his feet. Roxas scowled at the weakness washing through him, felt a wave of misery follow closely in its wake. The redhead quickly kissed his temple, and although he flashed an encouraging smile, Roxas wearily saw the lines of worry that couldn't be eradicated. God, he was so _sick _of people worrying about him, worrying _because _of him. He'd almost forgotten what it was like to just _be, _and have no one staring, no one asking if he was okay. He was such an _idiot._

Axel's eyes touched quickly on Zexion's, the other man nodding. "We'll see you two in the morning. Roxas – try to get some rest."

Roxas sucked in a breath, almost a laugh, and didn't respond. Axel's arm wound itself around his waist, and together they exited the hall. No one tried to stop them, or call to see if Roxas was alright. As they passed Kairi's table, the girl looking like she was going to speak, Axel cut her a warning glance, made a small gesture with his hand. She subsided, and they left the dining hall without having to procure explanations.

They started walking down the corridor, the first few minutes passing in silence. Roxas wasn't sure where they were going, or if Axel even had a clear idea in mind, but as long as they continued to move, he didn't really care. They were leaving the outburst further and further behind.

Axel's fingers feathered along the skin under the back of his shirt, offering the comfort Roxas had claimed to be all he wanted just last night to Vincent.

"_He can't save you. Don't be too hopeful."_

He realised, stomach sinking, that he had been. It was like he'd expected the redhead to be able to cure him, just through being there, caring more than anyone else. But the seed of the problem still remained within Roxas himself, and it seemed that no amount of comfort was going to make that go away. He'd pinned too much on Axel's homecoming, and now that fragile little card castle was falling apart.

Axel watched him as they walked, curious and wary. "How're you feeling now?" he asked quietly, when the sound of their footsteps had become a metronome. Roxas grimaced, rubbed his sore eye with the heel of his palm.

"I'm sorry. I didn't mean to go off at her. I'm trying to keep it together, but… I'm tired, Axel. And, I don't know, Larxene, she…"

"She mentioned your mom, right?" the redhead murmured.

Roxas halted, glaring, shrugging Axel off sharply. "What the fuck has that got to do with anything?"

He smiled lop-sidedly. "Hello, answer."

Roxas was confused. Once again, the ire faded as swiftly as it flared, leaving him woozy, muscles shivering. "Wait – what?"

"'Follow mother'," Axel said musingly. Roxas lunged, swinging a fist savagely. Axel ducked out of the way with an exclamation, watched the knuckles crunch against the wall. Roxas jerked to a stop, mouth forming an 'o', arm stiff. Tears sprang automatically to his eyes, a gasp sucking in, eyebrows drawing together. Slowly, his lips peeled back from his teeth, a gradual hiss escaping. He withdrew his hand, shaking, and looked down at the throbbing, bruising flesh with bewilderment. Axel's eyes were slits, hands even deeper in their pockets, mouth a thin line.

"Hey, Rox? Follow mother."

"Shut the _fuck _up," the boy panted, voice trembling, blinking away the moisture angrily. His chest hitched up as he pulled his hand tenderly close to his throat, pressed the uselessly thrumming fingers to his skin, the pain pulsing and tingling.

"Follow. Mother."

Roxas' eyes squeezed shut. "Stop saying that. _Stop it, _Axel."

"Gonna try and punch me again?"

"No," the blond growled. He turned his hot gaze onto the redhead. "I'm sorry, okay? So just _stop."_

"Roxas – "

"_Don't say it again!"_

Axel approached slowly, hands lifting to gently touch Roxas' head, sliding down to his cheeks. The blond ducked his face quickly, breathing hard. "This is the root of it," Axel said calmly. "This is the problem. There's something in you not accepting that your mom is dead."

"Shut up," Roxas spat, not looking up. "Don't even _mention _her."

"Why not?"

"Just _because." _His voice gave out, became a hoarse whisper, eyes darting everywhere. "Please, I don't like you _talking _about her. You're a good boy, so please, please just listen to me."

"We can't just ignore this," Axel argued quietly. "We've found it, Rox, and now we can figure out a way to fix you."

Roxas clenched his jaw, sucked in a breath. "I don't feel like being fixed just now," he said, as steadily as he could. "We were meant to be clearing my head, Axel, not filling it with – with more bullshit than I can even handle."

"This is more than you can handle?" the redhead asked seriously, voice low. Roxas' eyes flashed open, leapt up to the green, and a second later he was on him, lips pressing desperately onto Axel's, tongue laving at the join of his mouth, sliding through the startled opening, kissing him hard enough to hurt. His hands scrabbled for a moment, before latching on to handfuls of red spikes, tugging down painfully, fingers pressing through to dig his nails into the scalp. He closed his eyes, shoved himself closer, their bodies tight together. Axel grunted, whether in pleasure or anger Roxas couldn't be certain, but he continued the attack, anxiety filling his every pore, panic a fire in his lungs.

He couldn't think about it. He wouldn't. Axel couldn't _make _him. _Distract with lust. _His hand shifted down to the zipper on Axel's pants, fingers fumbling, starting to tug it down, tongue just about choking the redhead as he thrust it deeper, a gagging device.

Just as Axel began to regather his wits, hands sliding against Roxas' chest and preparing to push to break the increasingly painful union, someone came across them, yelped, "Whoa-ho-ho! Oops! Sorry!"

They burst apart, gasping, dazed, Axel's teeth grinding together as Roxas scraped his hands through his hair, breathing hard. "Yu-Yuffie! Hi! How's it going?"

"Ah…" She chuckled, hands on hips, eyebrows high. "Well, not as good as you guys, that's for sure. You should be charging for this kind of entertainment."

Axel's hand wrapped over Roxas' shoulder, squeezing hard, making the boy flinch. His lips parted in a thin, bloodless grin, jaw clamped. "Well, we'd certainly make a fortune," he said, pumping an element of cheer into his voice as effectively as he could. "Me and Roxie, we're a sexy couple of beasts. What's up, Yuffie? Come to welcome me home?"

She winced, cocking a hip to one side, scratching her head. "Well, sort of, I guess. I suppose I can extend it to you both?" She flashed Roxas a guilty glance. "Sorry I haven't been to see you yet. I've been busy." She sighed. "Vincent left today, though, so I'm kind of at a loose end."

"Oh." Axel's grip loosened briefly, as he frowned. "He's going after the freak, right?"

She smiled regretfully, nodded. "Yup. Let's just hope he gets the guy this time." She seemed to notice a slight tension in the air, tipped her head to one side. "You guys okay? I mean, I've been keeping up with the physical reports – it's not that I didn't care enough to come see you. You're both looking a little flushed…" She winked. "But then, who wouldn't be after _that _little session? You guys don't do things halfway, huh?" She peered at Roxas, an eyebrow lifting. "What about you, kid? Not going to say hi? I didn't mean to ignore you since you got back… I've been asking about you from Aerith, if that makes it better?"

"Yeah, it's fine." He forced a shaky smile. "I just…" He swallowed. "I don't feel too great."

Her brow furrowed with concern. "Well, what are you doing wandering the halls then? You need to get to bed."

"No, that's not going to happen yet," Axel cut in pleasantly. "We were walking, so Roxas could…" He cast him a sideways look. "…clear his head."

"Uh…_huh." _Yuffie seemed to realise she was missing something in all of this, glanced from one to the other speculatively. "Well, if you're looking for something to do, I heard Sora's been wanting to talk to you, Axel. He's doing his shift now, so if you wanted to go check that out, it'd kill some time, right?"

He inhaled slowly. "Yeah. That could work." He looked at Roxas, whose gaze was lowered to the floor. A burst of frustration crossed the redhead's expression, but with the ninja around, there was nothing he could do. He wasn't going to drag this into a public arena – not yet, at least. He turned back to her with a tight smile. "I'll go now. Thanks for letting me know." He released Roxas, fingers tingling, the boy's shoulder no doubt bruised by now. He nodded to the brunette, started walking. Roxas looked up in panic, realising he was being left behind. Yuffie was beginning to frown, understanding less and less with each passing exchange between the two who had apparently been passion-locked only minutes ago.

"I – I could come, too," Roxas choked out. Fear flooded him, of being left alone, of Axel leaving him angry like this. Without Axel – he had no one. When the redhead paused, but didn't turn, he blurted, "I'm sorry. I didn't mean to. I didn't – want to…"

Yuffie's eyebrows lifted. Roxas darted her a desperate look. Axel sighed. "Yuffie, we'll see you around. Rox, come on." As Roxas joined him, he said quietly, "That's only so she doesn't ask questions, got it? I'm not happy with you, Rox. Not even a little bit."

The blond closed his eyes, berated himself. What the hell had possessed him to just – _force _himself on Axel like that? It's not like Axel wasn't up for it every other minute of the day, but… the way Roxas had done it… It had just been to stop him asking _questions_. Almost anything would be better than having to talk about his mom. And this… it puzzled him. All of a sudden, Roxas was awash in confusion. _Why _didn't he want to talk about his mom? _Why _did the mention of her make him snap so badly? He'd pretty much figured that his subconscious reaction to her death was part of the problem, but he hadn't imagined even for a moment that it could have been as bad as all this. He'd tried to _punch _Axel. He'd rammed the redhead against a wall, never minding the fact that his shoulder had been stabbed only a week ago, and tried to silence him by almost giving him a hand job in the _hall._ What the hell was _wrong _with him?

A slow-boiling anger replaced the bafflement, intensely self-directed. After everything Axel was already enduring from him – the destruction of his room, the pain he'd been put through, the worry, the frustration – now he was trying to actually _hurt _him? For what? For _caring?  
_Roxas lowered his head, scowling. Axel wasn't even looking at him. They left Yuffie behind, to think what she would, and made their way through the castle towards the main computer lab. Axel didn't speak the entire way, and Roxas… he didn't know what to say. An apology was definitely in order, but… if he did – Axel would want to continue the discussion. And he couldn't face it. He couldn't.

So the silence stretched, their footsteps echoed through the empty halls, the air growing thicker and tighter with every breath. Roxas' knuckles ached and stung, just to add to it all. But then, it was better this way than Axel's _face _feeling it. He glanced over uncertainly. The man had his head held up, gazing straight ahead with a flat expression in place. Damn it, he'd had him back for not even a day, and he was already screwing it all up.

Their feet passed onto the metal grating of the walkway, then onto the tiles as they entered the lab. Sora was in there, hunched over the keyboard in the main chair, the room dark except for the dim, steady glow from the screen, unnerving Roxas. The last time he'd been in here, when it looked like this, was when he'd been sleep-walking. He wondered if it would ever feel normal again, being here at night. He suspected the memory would always rise.

Axel glanced around the room, an eyebrow raised. "Where's your partner?"

Sora jumped, nearly banged his nose on the keys it was hovering so close above them, and twisted around, blinking dazedly. "Axel?"

The redhead spread his arms, shrugged. "You wanted me?" He spoke shortly, not bothering so much with the happy-act around his fellow technician. Sora pursed his lips with a frown, nodded, attention turning back to the screen intently. "I need your opinion on something." Axel flicked a glance at the blond.

"Roxas, take a seat."

Sora blinked, glanced back. "Roxas? Oh, sorry. Didn't see you."

Roxas smiled weakly. "That's okay. It's not like I'm… all there, if you know what I mean." Sora blinked for a moment, before breaking into a brief grin. Axel scowled, shifted over to peer at the screen.

"Why'd you send _Yuffie _to get me?"he muttered. "She's not exactly a techie."

Sora rolled a shoulder uncomfortably. "Yeah, well, I'd kind of prefer it if no one from our side of things knew I was asking for help."

Axel lifted a brow sardonically. "You mean, aside from me and Rox?" When Sora's only answer was a serious expression, he frowned. "What's going on? You mean to tell me you don't want even _Riku _to know?"

Sora was unhappy, sinking low in his chair. "DiZ won't let me, and I understand why. But I can't figure this out on my own, no matter how hard I try, and, well, you were in hospital when some of the freaky stuff happened, so I figured it was safe to ask…"

"Safe," Axel echoed suspiciously. "What're you getting at?"

Sora grimaced. "Something's going on with Twilight Town. Things are… messing up a little."

Axel glanced over to where Roxas had settled himself into the smaller chair, hands squeezed between his knees, gazing blankly at the bank of controls. At Sora's words, he'd blinked, frowned, glanced over. "What's wrong with Twilight Town?"

Sora shook his head helplessly. "Well, like I said, I can't figure it out. I don't know yet." He tapped a finger to his lips, then pointed at the blond. "This is – a good thing, actually, having you here. Things were obviously going wrong before you got out – that thing in the tunnels, with the wonder – that flat-out was _not _supposed to happen." He sighed regretfully, looking over to the screen, where the indecipherable computer language tumbled in columns. Axel swung his head to look at Roxas, eyes narrowing.

"That's right – that one went wrong, didn't it? You were – scared."

"Roxas got the shit beaten out of him, by the sound of it," Sora contributed, studying the symbols absently. Axel glared, one side of his face lit up starkly, the other in dim shadow.

"Why didn't you tell me at the time?"

"What's it matter now?" Roxas mumbled. "I was too freaked out. I didn't want to. Besides, that's when you weren't supposed to be there, so you couldn't have said anything anyway."

"I would have," the redhead replied sharply. Sora glanced up, eyebrows raised.

"Whoa, who spat in _your _potato soup? Ease up, man, Roxas didn't know what was going on."

Axel pinched the bridge of his nose with irritation. "Look, Sora, what the hell do you want? I'm getting to the point of wanting to scream here."

"Yeah, and you arrived like that, so don't take it out on me," the brunet replied curtly. "I want you to help me search through the databases for unauthorised entrances into the town. Things are getting way too weird in there for my liking."

"Like how?" Roxas asked in concern. "My friends – are they okay?"

Sora shot him a crooked grin. "Sure, they're fine," he reassured. Roxas didn't like the way he could so easily switch between worry and easy smiles. He felt like he was being humoured – things were obviously not going great, but Sora wasn't about to let him know. The brunet explained, "There's nothing wrong with the people – nothing really _happening, _as far as I can tell…" His face fell into confusion. "That's what's making it so hard to find. Because there really is _something _going wrong."

"Okay, fine, I'll help," Axel said impatiently. "Is it okay for Roxas to stay? He won't do anything."

Sora waved a hand. "Sure, no problem." He winked at the blond. "We already know you're not going to flip out, right?"

"Well, I guess there's a first time for everything," said Axel, not quite completely under his breath. Both sets of blue eyes in the room widened. Sora sent Roxas a questioning look, but the blond merely wallowed in his guilt and hurt, and directed his gaze miserably elsewhere.

Systematically, Axel and Sora started searching through the system files, while Roxas swung slowly back and forth with the toe of his foot, listening to the squeak that occurred in the same place every time, gazing unseeingly at the bank of controls. Two hours passed, filled with murmurs of disjointed observation, the steady clicking of keys. Roxas struggled to stay awake, eyelids dropping lower every now and then, head growing thicker, as though a steady feed of cotton was being inserted through one ear. The swinging stopped, and for a long time simply sat there, staring dully into space.

"_Roxas…?"_

His eyes slid shut. "What is it, mom?"

"_What_ was that?" Axel's voice cut across the room like a whip, startling both Sora and Roxas out of their increasingly sleepy stupors. Sora had, for some time now, simply watched the screen while Axel typed, growing more and more drowsy. Roxas was blinking rapidly, eyebrows knitted, Axel's gaze fierce.

"What?"

"What did you _say?" _the redhead insisted. Roxas shook his head, bewildered.

"I didn't say anything. I was just sitting here."

"No, you mentioned your mom. I _heard _you," the man said sharply. Roxas scowled.

"I didn't, Axel. I mean…" His expression melted into one of doubt. "I didn't – did I?"

"You did." The redhead sighed, wiped his face. "I don't get this," he mumbled. He grimaced. "Okay, we need to get out of here. You need to be sleeping. It's way too late for anymore of this bullshit."

Roxas felt panic flutter up. "I don't want to go to bed yet."

"Well, _I_ do,"Sora muttered. "I've been working for hours – Naminé should have come to relieve me ages ago." He turned pleadingly to Axel. "I don't know what's going on with you and Roxas, but if you're leaving, can you guys just hold the fort for a while? Until I find her?"

"What, are you serious?" the redhead complained.

"I don't mind," said Roxas quickly. "Go ahead, Sora. I'll stay."

"And wherever Roxas went, Axel was sure to go, right?" Sora bounced up, looking suddenly more awake with his brightness. "Awesome, you guys, thanks a bunch. I'll be back, I swear! Or – well – someone will."

Axel's eyes narrowed as he watched the brunet scamper away. Once Sora's footsteps had faded, he looked over at Roxas, who was watching him warily. He scowled, stomped in front of the large chair and sat down. Roxas sighed. "So, is this going to continue for long? Are you just going to stop talking to me now?" Axel didn't reply, drummed his fingers against the arm of the chair and stared moodily at the screen. Roxas frowned. "Hey, it's not like you haven't done worse."

Axel paused, looked over with a brow arching. "Are you using my past against me, now, Roxas? Are you saying that me being a slut before you came along makes what you did to me earlier okay?"

Frustrated, Roxas twisted the seat to face the redhead, snapped, "No, it's not. What I'm _saying _is please, stop treating me like I did something so wrong."

"What you did _was _wrong," Axel replied sharply. "You jumped me to shut me up, because you can't handle talking about your mom. What the hell is going to happen to you, Rox? Are you just gonna pack up and return to Twilight Town, so you can pretend your parents are real again? Larxene was right," he added darkly, looking away. "Never thought I'd say it, but she's got you there, buddy. Everyone's lost someone. Stop acting like you're the only one precious enough to have feelings about it all."

Roxas stared, a numbness stealing over him. The thought occurred to him to grab the chair and repeat his first viewing all over again – bash the hell out of _everything, _and _know _it this time… Because this wasn't _fair, _he wasn't doing it out of _selfishness…_

"You think I like this?" he asked tightly. "You think I enjoy feeling like I'm gonna hurl every time someone starts talking about her? Or how I keep doing weird shit, how this whole fucking sleep-walking thing is pretty much directly connected to her?" He grew angry. "Actually, you know what? Fuck you. I _can _talk about her. I talked about her to Vincent! And you know why I didn't freak out? Because he did it _right." _He glared. "He didn't push and try to break it out of me – he just asked a couple of questions, and everything was _fine. _But _you – _you just had to hammer me down, didn't you? Had to fucking – fucking push and push until – " He shook his head sharply, hands forming fists on his knees. "What did you _expect _to happen, Axel?" he demanded. "Was that meant to spark an epiphany? Was it meant to burn it out of me? _What?"_

"I want to fix you," Axel snapped in return. "It's kind of hard when you refuse to even admit that there's a problem."

"I _am _a fucking problem right now," Roxas hissed through his teeth. "All I do, everywhere I go, is mess things up. Don't you think I'm _sick _of that? Don't you think I _want _to be normal? Okay, believe me – before you arrived this morning, I was _aware _that there were problems connected to my mom's death – I _know _that there's some part of me fighting against it – but you just trying to _fix _me isn't _working." _

Axel threw his hands up in exasperation. "So what am I supposed to do, then? I told you it would be okay, didn't I? How am I supposed to make good on that if you're not telling me what's going on? You didn't even tell me about my room this morning! I gave you the chance, and you totally tried to avoid it! How can I _help, _Roxas?"

"I don't think you…" His voice, loud at first, dropped all of a sudden. "…can." He shook his head hopelessly. "Vincent was right," he said simply. "You can't save me. Not from this."

"Yeah? Well… fuck Vincent," the redhead grumbled. A silence developed, the air humming with the leftover power of their voices. Roxas felt a chasm between them, and dropped his head onto his arms.

"I'm sorry," he said unhappily. "I know I fucked up, okay? I just – you made me panic, and…"

"And the best way to shut me up is to stick your tongue down my throat," Axel finished in a murmur. He shrugged. "Guess I've got no one to blame but myself for that."

"I'm sorry," Roxas repeated. Axel sighed, leaned back in his chair, sliding down so that his knees pressed against the edge of the control panel. He ran a hand through his spikes.

"Is there really nothing I can do?" he asked, calmly this time, the anger burnt out between them. Roxas studied him for a moment. Before the coolness could become an ice, he stood abruptly, walked over to where the man was, and sat on him, straddling his legs. Startled, Axel blinked, scowled. "Roxas…" he said warningly. Roxas shook his head.

"I'm not." He shifted closer, leaned in and kissed the redhead. Axel was unresponsive, eyes narrow, remaining limp as Roxas' mouth moved against his own. Unperturbed, the blond kissed the corner of his lips, and moved on to his cheek, tracing a line of soft pecks up and down the skin.

"Roxas, you should really get off me," Axel said dully. Roxas paused, pulled back slightly, met his eyes.

"Axel, this is it," he said firmly. "I'm not trying to avoid the subject, I'm showing you what you can do to help. This is _it."_

Axel's expression was withering. "So I'm your fuck-toy, am I? When you're with me, you don't need to think?"

"Yeah," answered Roxas truthfully. "The last part, at least." He hesitated. "When I'm with you, I don't feel bad anymore. I don't have to think, and I don't have to worry… it's the only time I'm relaxed, even just a little bit. For once, all I have to do is feel…"

Axel's gaze became tentative. "You're serious?" he asked, a little doubtful, not entirely trusting the blond's intentions.

"_He'll make me feel better, at least. I know he will. Right now – a little comfort is really all I want."_

"Yeah. I am." Roxas' eyes were clear for the first time that night, meeting Axel's without uncertainty.

Displeased, Axel said, "I want to _help, _though. I don't want you to go through this anymore." He frowned. "I'm sorry for pushing you. I just – I want _answers, _Rox. And you're not giving me any."

"Other people know, though," Roxas pointed out. "I know you want to be the one to do it… to fix me… but…" He shrugged, swallowed, averted his gaze. "Maybe… you need to let me go for this. I think someone like Aerith or Vincent has a better chance… more patience, maybe."

Axel snorted. "And right on cue, Vincent leaves the castle. Fucking perfect." He shook his head slowly, breathing in. "So you're saying that all I can do is distract you? That's my role in all of this?"

"Just – just the crazy part," Roxas offered, cringing slowly. "I know that's kind of – a big part of me now, but… yeah."

Axel fixed him with a hard look, watching him for a minute. Roxas endured the inspection, holding his breath, listening to the pulse thump in his aching head. "Okay, then. I guess." The redhead didn't sound happy. "If that's what you want." He squinted. "Does this mean I have to, like, make-out on demand now?"

Roxas smiled, relief washing over him in a cool wave, stilling the buzzing in his veins, the fear in his gut. _This _was what Axel was good for – not burrowing down to the root of the problem, not making it go away, but – making it _better. _He calmed Roxas, kept his head level, stopped him from spinning off into the outer-space of angst, reeled him in if he happened to. This was what Axel was needed for.

"Don't act like you wouldn't want it," he said dryly. The redhead gave a crooked grin, the first in hours, and whatever chasm had been lengthening between them dissipated in an instant.

"Don't act like this isn't all just some elaborate excuse to get into my pants," Axel countered, leering slightly. "You know, Rox, all you had to do was ask. Don't be shy, now." Roxas bent in to kiss him, slowly this time, Axel participating, a peace offering from each party, a recognition that the air was clean again. As the blond pulled away, Axel sighed, "Why do I feel like I just whored myself out?"

"Because you're my whore," Roxas growled, settling his elbows on the man's shoulders. Axel blinked, stunned for a moment, and Roxas faltered, wondering if he'd touched upon a sore point. But then came the grin.

"That – was the hottest thing I have ever heard you say. You just talked dirty to me, Rox. I can't believe you just talked dirty to me." He licked his lips, eyes shining. "I liked it."

Roxas arched a brow, touched him on the nose. "Don't get used to it. I'll only use it on special occasions."

"Is breakfast a special occasion?"

"Depends on what you feed me," the blond smirked. Axel groaned.

"You're such a fucking tease."

Roxas settled his chin onto his hands, pupils dilating the closer they got. "Am I?"

Axel paused, eyed him off. _"…Are _you?"

Sora returned, footsteps clanging, Riku and Vaan following behind, the two fairer males looking less than pleased. "You owe us big," Vaan grumbled. He pointed at Axel and Roxas. "You two. Off my chair."

"Who says you get the big chair?" Riku challenged.

"_Me," _replied Vaan shortly. "You get extra sex for this, what do I get? The big chair. It's only fair." Riku thought for a moment, seemed to find the conditions acceptable, and went over to the smaller seat. Roxas struggled up, Axel following.

"Thanks, guys," Sora chirped happily. "You going to bed now? I know I am!" The two techies replacing him shot over glares. Axel smirked.

"Yeah, bed sounds good." He glanced lazily over at Roxas. "Care to join me?"

The blond rolled his eyes. "I don't know if I should. I feel like I've enabled something which doesn't necessarily work to my advantage."

"Oh, no," Axel reassured suggestively, eyes gleaming. He hung himself over the teen's shoulders, fingers brushing against his stomach. "It definitely does."

"Dude! Straight man in the vicinity!" Vaan declared, covering his ears. "If I'm not going to listen to Yuffie and Tifa discussing their sexual experiences, I'm sure as fuck not gonna listen to _you."_

"You _didn't _listen? What are you, gay?" Riku smirked. Vaan flipped him off. The silver-haired teen leaned back, said, "Can you guys walk Sora to our room? I don't like him being alone at night since that guy broke in."

Sora snorted. "Please, Vincent would've _found _him, Riku." The boy shrugged.

"I don't care. I want you safe."

Sora exhaled noisily. "Yes, _mother."_

Roxas flinched. Some of Axel's exuberance died down, his hold tightening around the blond. He kissed the teen's ear. "It's going to be okay," he whispered. Roxas forced a smile.

"Of course. I can be fixed, right?"

Axel hesitated. "We'll make sure of it." Sora waited at the door, impatient.

"You guys, save the pillow talk for later. I'm _sleepy," _he whined. Axel rolled his eyes.

"We're coming, we're coming."

"Do it on your own time," Riku said in a sing-song.

"Jesus, what are you, the castle comedienne tonight? Shut the fuck up," Vaan grouched. The three males left, Axel and Roxas escorting Sora to his own room, before returning to Demyx's. They entered the cool interior, Axel blowing out a sigh.

"I can stay if you want," he offered. He held his hands up before Roxas could state the inevitable, added, "No strings attached, I swear. I just want you to get some sleep for once."

Roxas considered for a moment, eyeing the bed, remembering that yes, it was the enemy – and Vincent wasn't even around this time. He felt a stir of nervousness. "You'd need to lock us in. In case I get up while you're asleep."

Axel frowned. "You sure? I thought maybe they were just being a little extreme…"

Roxas shook his head. "No," he said softly. "It's – necessary." Axel nodded slowly.

"Alright, then."

Roxas peeled off his clothes, sighed at the lack of shower, but knew that to suggest it now would send the redhead into wild lecher mode. He still remembered the _last _time they took a shower together, and didn't think his overstressed heart could stand the strain.

He climbed into the bed, the sheets chilly, the pillow soft, and burrowed down, facing the wall. Axel opened the door, engaged the outside lock, clicked it shut again, sealing them in. There was a rustling of material as he disrobed, before the mattress sank under his weight. He moved up cautiously behind the blond, curled an arm around his waist.

"Here we are again," he murmured. "Everything back to its beginning." Roxas nodded, face burying into the pillow. A new kind of nervousness filtered through; he wondered what Axel would do now. They were both half-naked, close, in a bed… He could feel Axel's breaths fanning his bare shoulder. The man's fingers brushed his stomach softly. "Go to sleep, Roxie," he whispered. "I'm taking care of you."

Roxas hesitated, nodded again. He closed his eyes. Watched over by Axel, he slept.


	33. Chapter 33

**A/N: **Ahaha. Hahaha. Ha. Ehehehe. Hehe. Haha. Heh. Ohhh. _(tear-wipe)_ You know I love you guys, right?

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CHAPTER THIRTY-THREE

The lights of the dining hall were mostly off, two of the halogens remaining illuminated, casting their bright glow down upon the entrance, and the end near the windows. Cloud sat in the darkest section that could be found, in the middle of it all, on a table, his feet on a chair. One hand was splayed upon the cold metal surface, the other holding the identification tags aloft, swinging them slowly back and forth. His eyes tracked them from side to side, watching them spin, listening to the steady clink, feeling its own weight perpetuating the momentum. Only occasionally did he need to give help, tilting his fist to the side to encourage its speed.

Since first arriving at the castle, joining the Restoration Committee, he had done this every now and then – the silence within the darkness was a blessing, somewhere cool for Cloud to close his eyes and not have to think, or feel, or be someone anyone was expecting. This was the closest he could come to peace, this lonely nothing. To exist completely within himself, no outside world to speak of in the dim, empty space…

He wasn't sure why he insisted on bringing out the tags every time he found the time, didn't really know what the appeal was of staring at them for minutes or hours on end, except that maybe it was easier to think of Sephiroth as a name carved into metal than a pile of ashes somewhere in Gongaga. Zack had kept them, he said, in a small metal tin. That was what remained of the greatest general of the Zanarkand army, the one person that had loved Cloud above all else. The tormented soul he had owned would be free now of its cold and regal bearing, the ramrod-straight posture, the electric eyes that could send a soldier screaming, or Cloud…

He wondered, desperately, who could have been impersonating him, who would want to hurt Roxas in Cloud's place. Axel's recount of the madness that had come dribbling from the man's lips baffled and chilled him – instead of coming after Cloud directly, the impostor had chosen to focus in on the one person that looked vaguely similar to him. It didn't matter that it was only the colouring – Roxas had been marked, and Cloud could only wish that it had been him sitting on that hill in the valley instead of the teen. Perhaps then none of this would have happened. So, a false Sephiroth was homing in on a false Cloud. What would that mean, ultimately, for Roxas? If the guy had done his homework – and Cloud found, unsettlingly, that he had appeared to – he wouldn't just give up. Sephiroth wouldn't have. But who on earth resembled the great man enough, _knew _him enough, to pass as him?

Also, how had they taken Masamune from the General's belongings? It belonged to Cloud now, rightfully. Seph's will stated it, according to Zack. Everything had gone to him. It had even extended to his brothers' items, his hard voice engulfing the pattern of their own wills as if he had been standing above them dictating each and every word. Knowing Seph, it was all too possible. When it had come to Cloud… Well, Cloud had heard tell of Axel's obsession for Roxas. It had startled him badly to have it described as such, because, in his mind, that had always been the word he'd attached to Sephiroth's emotions towards _him._ Burning, black, white obsession. The bubbling, tar-like quality of it, the shackles that had lashed him always close to the man, who wanted nothing more than to share the light that Cloud was making him feel… Sephiroth had been ever the walking contradiction. A person… should be comprised of shades of grey, not a constantly warring black and white. It was in the soul-thin space between the two that Seph's own madness had sprung to life, twisting him slowly but surely, until the man he once was was lost among the echo of the many voices of his heart… Cloud saw none of that in Axel. He had known the redhead distantly in the six weeks prior to Roxas' arrival, and his own, private categorisation of his behaviour was simply… someone longing to be completed. Axel had allowed part of himself to be swallowed into Twilight Town, and spent the consequent years desperately needing it back.

Sephiroth hadn't needed completing… He hadn't _needed _Cloud to be whole. He had just – consumed him. He had filled himself with the blond, and wondered why it still felt like someone was blowing him apart chunk by chunk.

The necklace swung steadily, drawing Cloud's thoughts deeper, although a section of him remained distracted and restless. Somehow, the darkness wasn't helping this time. Not like it used to. Maybe because his mind was working too hard, filled with silver hair and blazing jade eyes, cutting his meditation apart in the form of memories. Still, he was absorbed enough to not hear the footsteps approaching. As silent as they were, skin on tile, there was still a brush that would have alerted him any other time of the night. The owner of the feet wasn't trying to be quiet, and when the blond didn't turn, Leon placed his hands on his bare hips, taking the opportunity, as usual, to study Cloud. There was something different about him, that at first the sleep-ridden brunet couldn't put his finger on. It took several minutes before he realised: Cloud wasn't tense. He wasn't on guard. He was – open, and relaxed, because he didn't know yet that his walls were required. It was like seeing him smile at Zack again, that first time. There was something softer about the man in moments like this than he allowed to exist the rest of the time.

Leon's eyes narrowed slightly, as he realised what Cloud was doing – he saw the glint of metal in the splashback from the lights. That necklace again. Sephiroth. Leon had to admit, he was still kind of dismayed that Cloud could ever have willingly _chosen _to be with a man like that. No matter what his moral dilemmas may have been according to Zack, anyone who was capable of delivering the orders he knew that the General had personally given barely registered as truly human. Someone like that didn't go home at the end of the day and give their lover a foot massage and curl up with a book, even given the free time to do so. Someone like that – was _alien. _How could Cloud have found _anything _in his heart for such a person?

He shifted in place, deliberately drawing his feet along the floor to make a shushing noise, but still the blond didn't stir from his reverie. Leon raised an eyebrow, decided a less subtle approach was called for. "Self-hypnotism, Cloud?"

The man jerked violently, a small, startled noise escaping his lips. The necklace slipped from his fingers. He made a desperate grab for it, but it hit his knee and slithered away, clattering to the floor. He twisted sharply, eyes wide, breathing hard. "Leon?" His expression faltered slightly. The man was bare from the waist up, dressed in light cotton pants, hair tousled as if he'd just rolled out of bed. Which, from the looks of it, he had. Leon blinked calmly. "What're you doing?"

Cloud scowled, turned away, stood on the chair, towering over the other man briefly before stepping down. His boots squeaked as he shifted back and lowered to his hands and knees. "I was just sitting. Is that okay with you?" he muttered. "You scared the hell out of me."

Leon crouched, tipped his head to one side so he could peer under the table to where the man groped semi-blindly for the metal chain. "I meant, what are you doing awake still? It's nearly two in the morning. We've got a long day ahead of us."

"_You're_ up, aren't you?" he retorted, as rudely as possible, crawling deeper between the many thick and thin stationary legs. Leon shrugged.

"I got hungry. I _was _asleep, though, as you should be."

"You've stayed up til three before," Cloud reminded him shortly, hands patting around, eyes adjusting slowly to the new depth of darkness. "We were awake until three-thirty the other night, remember?"

Leon hopped closer, grabbing the edge of the table for balance, ducking his head under. "That was only when Roxas was acting crazy." He eyed the man in the dimness. "I don't ordinarily stay up that long voluntarily. Not without a good reason."

"Well, good for you," replied the blond testily, still unable to find the tags. "Ever consider that I _do _have a good reason?"

"Can't you pine for Sephiroth in your dreams or something?" the brunet asked flatly. "I don't feel like having you lagging from tiredness when we get to the fissure."

"Who says I'm pining for Sephiroth?" Cloud snapped. "And by the way, you're an asshole."

Leon shrugged, a glint catching his eye. He scooped up Sephiroth's tags from where they'd skittered to wrap around the leg of one of the chairs, and jingled them to catch the other man's attention. Cloud froze, looking up. "Maybe I am," the brunet agreed. "But I'm an asshole with your jewellery."

"It's not _jewellery," _Cloud muttered. He clambered over, bumping chairs along the way, and snatched it away from his loose grip. "It's ID."

"A good thing, if he blew his head off like I heard," Leon replied neutrally. Cloud's eyes darkened dramatically, expression hardening. A tense moment passed, their gazes locked.

"If I wasn't going to crack my head against the table by doing so," he said at last, voice low, "I would leap at you now and start punching the crap out of that pretty face."

Leon smirked. "You think I'm pretty?"

Cloud didn't respond. He backed up, kicking a couple chairs noisily out of the way, leaving the confines and straightening, pulling himself up by the lip of the table. He brushed himself off automatically, his glare on Leon the whole time. "Do you have any idea how much of a horrible thing that was to say? He was my _boyfriend."_

"Your ex," Leon reminded him, standing also, arms folding over his chest.

"And that matters how?" Cloud asked sharply. Leon lifted a brow.

"You _don't _think it matters?"

"I don't think you should talk about _anyone _that way," he replied coldly. "Think, for just a second, Leon. Think about how that must have sounded to me. You and I might have our problems getting along, but you just hit a new record." He looped the chain around his neck, pulling the stray spikes of hair free from beneath it, and tucked it under his shirt. "See you in the morning," he muttered. "I'll take your advice and go to bed now."

As he went to brush past the brunet, Leon thrust out a hand, holding him back, sighing. "No – wait. I'm sorry." He shook his head slightly. "I didn't mean to come and destroy your quiet time."

"Well, you did," said Cloud shortly. "I was doing fine before you came along. Congratulations, Leon, you've succeeded in making me feel like _shit. _Are you always this respectful towards people, or am I just special enough to catch your attention?"

The man grimaced. "Look, I'm sorry. I just came for a drink and a snack, and instead…" He shrugged. "Well, instead I'm feeling steadily more and more… assholish."

"How very astute of you," came the scathing reply. Leon frowned, grip tightening momentarily on the front of the blond's shirt.

"I don't mean to upset you like this, Cloud. You know it frustrates me to see you wallowing away about Sephiroth."

"Damn it, I'm not _wallowing," _the man snapped. He jerked free, smoothed his shirt sharply. "You're frustrated, Leon? How do you think _I _feel? I ran away, so Sephiroth killed himself. I wasn't there to keep him together anymore, so he not only took out him_self, _he took out his _brothers. _People I knew and cared about are gone because of one decision I made!"

Leon blinked. "Cloud, it wasn't your – "

"I know it's not my fault," he interrupted harshly. "I'm not a complete idiot. It was all up to Seph, wasn't it? His choice. But damn it, why do you people keep expecting me to be _okay _with this? Am I supposed to just brush it off? Am I supposed to pretend that it all happened to _benefit _me?" His gaze was hard, but there was an element of pleading behind it all, a sort of desperation. "Can't you understand that what happened to them is a tragedy, Leon? Years of love, years of loyalty, and now they're all just _gone." _He sought the man's gaze as Leon dropped his eyes uncomfortably. "How would you feel if that was _you?" _he asked intently. "What if it was _you _who was on the brink, and the one person that you were hurting the most, the only one holding you together, just left?"

Storm-grey eyes cut up, narrow. "He was hurting you?"

"Mentally, Leon," Cloud answered impatiently, "and emotionally, yes." He hesitated. "He was suffering, and… he was cruel because of it. But more than that… he was losing his mind…" A brief silence fell between them. Leon waited for him to continue, but Cloud scowled. "Why am I even telling you this? You don't care." He started to move, and again was stopped, Leon's hand grabbing him by the shoulder, a frown in place.

"Of course I _care, _Cloud. Maybe I don't understand, but I'll be the first to admit it's because I don't know the situation. Maybe if you enlightened me, I'd be in a better position to help you."

"Did I say I needed help?" the blond demanded.

"You're not pulling away, are you?" Leon's voice was steady, calm. Cloud turned cold. He reached up to grab Leon's hand away. "Just give me a _chance," _the man said irritably. "I _want _to understand, Cloud, and maybe I'm _not _your boyfriend, but does that mean you have to lock it all away until I _am?"_

Cloud paused, momentarily confused by the brunet's choice of words. While he attempted to sort the sentence out, Leon took the hesitation as a sign of assent, and cautiously released him. He stepped back warily, ready to try and stop him again if necessary, but wondering wearily if it was really worth the trouble. If Cloud was determined to keep his mouth shut about all this, then in the end, there was little Leon could do to force him. Besides – he didn't _want _to force him. He wanted Cloud to trust him enough to tell him on his _own. _He wanted Cloud to _want _to tell him.

The blond eyed him suspiciously. "You hate Sephiroth, though."

Leon shrugged. "Did I say that? Yuffie hates him for what he did to Wutai, but me?" The corners of his mouth turned down. "He sounds like a monster to me, quite frankly. But…" He studied Cloud for a moment. "You're not stupid, and neither are you masochistic. If you say he was capable of kindness, I'll believe you." There was a pause, before he added, "I want to know what happened to drive you away from him. I want to know why he killed himself."

"So it's less about me, and more about satisfying your own curiosity?" Cloud supposed cynically. Leon shook his head.

"It's _all _about you,Cloud. I don't care about the details except for where they concern _you." _

Cloud's expression grew uncertain. He rolled his shoulders a little. "It's late, though. And – weren't you just up for a snack? I – I shouldn't take up your time more than I have done…"

Leon sighed. "You _can _talk while I eat, you know. I don't chew with my mouth open. I'll be able to hear you."

Suddenly frustrated, Cloud asked, "Why do you even _care, _Leon? What does it _matter _to you?"

Leon regarded him flatly for a long moment, eyes ticking over his features. "You're a friend, aren't you?" he replied at last. When Cloud didn't reply, that faintly baffled expression back in place, he shrugged and went across to the kitchen. He wondered, with an element of undisclosed anxiety, if the blond wouldn't just take this opportunity to walk away without saying another word. The sound of wary boots approaching from behind sent relief tingling through him. He set the kettle boiling, shifted over to one of the two large refrigerators, opened one broad door and gazed blankly in.

Cloud watched him with a frown, leaning against the counter, arms crossing over his chest. From here, he had a damn good view of Leon's profile, and on top of everything else, this was unsettling him. He wasn't sure he should have stayed. All he'd wanted was to be alone with his thoughts, and now here he was, preparing to actually air them. To Leon, no less. Leon in just a pair of cotton pants. He closed his eyes, berating himself sternly. This was no time for attraction. Not when he could feel the metal against his chest.

A long silence developed, filled with the increasing bubble of water as it grew closer to boiling. Leon hung inside the refrigerator, squinting. When at last the whistle sounded, Cloud reached across and flicked the switch, listening to the fading, weak squeal the steam gave as it subsided. Leon grunted, reached in, brought out a block of cheese and closed the door. He carried it over to the counter, grabbed one of the long knives from its slot within a slab of wood. "You want some cheese?"

Cloud sent him a dull look. "No. Thanks."

The man sliced a piece, picked up a corner as it crumbled, stuck it in his mouth. "I like cheese."

"I know. I've noticed."

Leon shrugged, picked up a mug and threw in a teabag, filled it up. "What about tea? You want a drink?"

"I wasn't aware we were sitting down for a _chat,_ Leon," Cloud replied in annoyance. "Jesus, do you do this often? Do you bring your dollies out in the middle of the night and have a party?"

"High heels," Leon murmured, and Cloud glared.

"Okay, that joke is _incredibly _old now."

"First you call me pretty, then you accuse me of having tea parties – just evening up the femininity stakes here." He carried his mug over and placed it carefully on the countertop, resumed slicing cheese. "So let's move on to more masculine topics, then, like death, blood and murder." He raised his eyes, glanced sideways at the blond. "Tell me what happened. How it affected you."

Cloud shook his head. "I don't know… I feel weird talking about it…" He sighed. "It's – it's all just in my head, Leon. It's all up there, swimming around… I don't know if I can even articulate it. It's not a bedtime story."

"Good thing I'm not in bed then," the brunet replied lightly. He lined up two sticks of yellow and cut them into numerous uneven cubes. "I wasn't planning on having sweet dreams anyway."

The blond was quiet for several beats, watching the other man work, still chopping away, the knife hitting the surface with a low thunk every few seconds. "He felt guilty," he said softly. The slicing slowed briefly, before resuming its regular, efficient pace.

"Zack said something along those lines," Leon agreed in a low voice. "Implied that you were his tormented lover."

Cloud snorted a little. "Zack would." He sighed. "He always sees through everything. He visited every now and then on various missions, came to see us in Zanarkand a little while before… before I left." He shook his head shortly. "He could see that things weren't right. It was obvious. I tried so hard to make it seem like everything was fine… maybe I tried _too _hard, I don't know. Either way, Zack figured it out. Asked some questions. Seph punched him for his troubles." He rolled a shoulder. "That was – the beginning of the end, I guess, to coin a crappy term. He never hit me, Sephiroth never laid a finger on me… but he wanted to. A couple of times, he – he really had to restrain himself." Cloud lifted his eyes, seeing it again, looking at the point in the air where Sephiroth's fist had hovered on the few occasions when Cloud holding him together was something to be hated. "So when he punched _Zack… _I knew it wasn't long before I followed. He wasn't even sorry." He looked briefly mournful. "Zack didn't hold it against him, but the last time he ever saw him alive, Sephiroth despised him. Called him – all sorts of names."

"So he _was _violent," Leon murmured. Cloud frowned, lowered his head slightly, sinking down a little against the counter.

"It was usually self-directed. He had a lot of self-loathing going on. The guilt was eating him up."

"From?" Leon popped a cube into his mouth, the knife momentarily stationary, propped on its tip, his wrist rolling slightly, screwing a tiny hole into the counter. Cloud sent him a withering look.

"What do you _think? _You called him a monster earlier – Yuffie hates me by association – Seph wasn't stupid, Leon, he _knew _that he was doing the wrong thing. Hell, by the end of it, most of them did in the upper ranks. But what can you do? You don't just pull out of a war. So he kept going, and made it as fast as he could. His methods grew a little brutal by the end, but hell – that's old news. That's ten years ago. I was barely more than a kid back then. I didn't know Seph until I turned nineteen, met him through Zack. Didn't get together with him til I was twenty-two." He was pensive. "It's funny that in the four years I was around, he actually got worse. I think… he felt bad for feeling _good, _you know?"

Leon was curious, to a certain degree. "So you were the catalyst to it all."

Cloud grimaced. "Maybe. Maybe if I hadn't come along, if Zack hadn't introduced us like he did, Sephiroth would have just lost himself in his coldness. I don't know. All I _do _know is that… I made him happy. And I think that hurt worse than anything. Someone who did the things he did doesn't deserve happiness. Even I kind of think that, and I don't know the full extent of his crimes. He and his brothers…" He sighed, ran his hands through his hair, hooked them behind his neck, angled his chin up to stare at the ceiling. "Let's just say," he said tiredly, "that the word 'evil' is thrown around a lot. Evil actions, even if the guys themselves were capable of just as much humanity as the rest of us."

Leon thought about this for a moment, chewed slowly. "Was it always bad, then? Did Sephiroth start losing it from when you arrived on the scene romantically?"

Cloud shook his head. "It took a couple years. It was maybe halfway through the third one that I started noticing changes. Mood swings, the self-hatred really flaring up. I'd catch him muttering to himself – poisonous things. It's like I could feel the venom spreading to me just by listening. It was…" His gaze grew distant. "…this dark stain, growing larger with each month."

"And eventually it got too bad. You left," Leon supplied. He blew on his tea, took a sip, placing the knife down at last. He turned, mimicked Cloud's position, elbows at his ribs as he nursed the mug against his chest. Cloud nodded faintly.

"He hurt Zack that one time. He was hurting himself. I caught sight of some unusual bruises occasionally on his brothers… They were a real point of disgust to him. He extended the hatred to them. It was just another way of making it worse on himself. They were mirror-images of him, almost. I had to witness _all _their pain, every single one of them. Because – for some stupid reason…" His voice took on frustration. "They refused to leave him. No matter what he did, or said, they'd stay. They loved him too much to go, whereas I…" He faltered. "I loved him too much to stick around." He scowled. "This is why I get so sick of people riding my back over all this. I didn't leave because I didn't want the relationship to continue, I didn't do it because there was nothing _left… _I did it because it was wrecking me to stay there in that environment. Even knowing the consequences of my actions – I – I think I'd _still _go. I'd warn Zack to keep an eye out, but… Well," he murmured, "maybe I wouldn't even do that. I wouldn't want him caught in the cross-fire."

Leon watched him intently. "Do you still love Sephiroth? Is that why you're always playing with his tags? You – never stopped loving him?"

Cloud smiled bitterly. "No, Leon. I'm not that good a person. A _good _person would have loved him forever, even if they had to leave. But me… I enjoyed the freedom." He dropped his arms, wedged his hands against the bench, frowning, some part of him obviously still disturbed by his apparent ability to let go of the past. "I was happy for the first time in _ages. _Without having it shoved in my face every day, I – I sort of found it… easy to forget. Never completely, I still thought about them of course," he hastened to add. "I always hoped that Seph would come around. And naturally, it's not like my emotions towards him just went away, but… I don't know. It wasn't a relationship that could last. There was a lot more tension than love involved by that time, and it was so nice to just… let both fall away. I couldn't have one without the other, so… I chose abandonment." He shrugged, a little too carelessly to be genuine. "You can think I'm a bad, disloyal person if you want. I won't hold that against you. But you just don't know what it was like living that life. You don't know how much weight I lost from my shoulders, how much lighter I felt just by – by making a solid decision for once, and following through."

"…I don't think you did anything wrong," said Leon quietly. He eyed the blond. "So where was that lightness when you got to Hollow Bastion? You've only ever been depressed from what I could tell."

Cloud was quiet for a bit. "I'd been away for a few months by that point. I'd heard that Seph was tearing the world apart looking for me. He had a lot of contacts. And… I'd started hearing more about his behaviour, how off it was starting to seem, even publicly… I'm glad they covered it up," he said honestly. "It would have been so bad for morale. People really don't need to hear that everything they ever did for their country, their lead strategist and fighter destroyed himself over the horror of it all." He pursed his lips. "He was obsessed with avenging all the people he'd ever murdered. He didn't call it anything but murder, no matter how much his brothers tried to argue or correct him… Hell, even I tried – one of the times he nearly hit me."

"So all this – was his way of striking back for them?"

"Remove the head of the army," Cloud answered dully, "and the body will follow." He shook his head. "Anyway, that was around when his search for me reached a fever-pitch. He sent people after me. Turks. Some guy named Reno nearly got me about a week before I arrived here." He laughed briefly. "He had hair a little like Axel's. I nearly died when I first saw him in the castle, just wandering around."

Leon picked up the knife, started cutting the cheese cubes smaller, not really interested in eating anymore. "And then you got here. Neutral territory." He grunted. "I'm surprised you didn't think of it sooner. Even Turks have little jurisdiction here. You could have melted into the background and never been found." He glanced over shrewdly. "Unless maybe you wanted to be."

Cloud inclined his head, acceding the point. "Maybe I did. I don't really know _what _was going on in my head back then." He frowned, reached under his collar and slowly hooked out the necklace toting Sephiroth's battlefield identification. "It's so easy to look on it with clarity, now that I know it's over. Even with that guy who attacked Roxas and Axel coming around, saying the things he said… the Sephiroth period of my life is _over."_

"And yet you keep the tags," Leon reminded him in a murmur, thumb sweeping the arc of the ceramic cup.

Cloud sighed. "Yes. I do. I haven't thought of a good enough reason yet to get rid of them. Why should I? I'm not afraid to remember him – just – so long as he stays in my memories, where he belongs."

And… something in Cloud relaxed suddenly. Leon saw it happen, saw the tension leak away, siphoned off by some invisible external force. He fingered the tags, expression softening. He smiled, just the tiniest amount. "It's over now, anyway. He'll be fine."

Leon watched him carefully, lifted his mug to his lips. "And you?"

Cloud looked up, slightly surprised. "Me? Yeah – I'll be fine, too. I mean, I already am. I was just… shaken, I guess. It's not every day your best friend comes to tell you your ex is dead." He cast over a tentative look. "I guess I _did _need to talk." He smiled crookedly. "You people aren't so full of it, after all."

Leon snorted. "So generous of you." He lowered the cup, clacked it onto the counter with a smirk. "So, since you told me all this, does that make me your boyfriend now?"

It was said as a joke, reminding Cloud of his previous words, maybe just to rub it in a little… But, Cloud, he turned, hip angled against the counter, arms folded over his chest, a speculative look in his eyes. There was a pause, in which Leon began to realise that perhaps the blond hadn't read his tone right – _fuck – _but before he could correct the situation, Cloud asked, "Do you want to?"

Leon halted, the words dying in his mouth, leaving it hanging open with a whisper of air. He blinked rapidly, eyebrows drawing together, shock punching his brain into bloody, incoherent submission. The most intelligent word he could utter was, "…What?"

Cloud froze, realised that something had gone wrong in the last several seconds, some miscommunication had occurred. Panic flared to life, clutched his heart, sent all the blood draining away from his skin, despite the sudden and intense prickling burn he felt at his pulse points. He sucked in a breath through his teeth, faced with Leon's complete and utter incomprehension, and said quickly, "Forget it."

Heart thumping in his ears, he turned, tried to escape at a fast but stately walk, and was, for a third time, stopped by Leon, who nearly lunged to close the distance between them before Cloud could get too far. His fingers wrapped around the man's upper arm, jerking him back around, eyes impossibly wide. For once, the stoic air was cracked apart, a desperate, wild look in the brunet's gaze. Cloud was caught off-guard, almost frightened by the sudden change, tried to pull away, but a moment later his other arm was grabbed, and Leon was kissing him.

Cloud inhaled sharply, leaning back under the force of the man's mouth against his own, their teeth bumping, an almost painful intensity to it. Then he shifted slightly, returning the kiss, and the pain subsided. Leon's arms threaded around his waist, gripping him tightly, the pair of them staggering sideways against the counter, the brunet opening his mouth to gasp in some oxygen while Cloud's tongue continued to invade it. He pressed himself against the blond, their hips grinding momentarily, sparking a deep groan from each throat. Cloud's hands slid along his bare torso, slipped up to his shoulders and drew him closer, lying back almost horizontal, half on the stove as Leon grabbed the hem of his shirt and shoved it up, revealing the man's chest. Cloud suddenly exclaimed, "Ah!" as the brunet's fingers circled his nipples, jerking his hips against the blond. Then again, a moment later, _"Ah! Fuck!" _He lifted his face, a pained expression, and grunted, _"Ow! _Corner! Corner in my back!"

Panting, understanding remotely that the noises hadn't been of pleasure, Leon hooked his hands under Cloud's thighs and lifted him, seating him on the stovetop, slipping into the perfect v between his legs. They enveloped each other, Leon's hands sliding under the back of his shirt, calluses scratching the smooth pale skin, Cloud's arms wrapping around the back of his neck, moaning softly as Leon continued to thrust shallowly against him, some powerful, restrained force between them unleashed to electrify the air. Heavy breaths echoed through the empty hall, Cloud's face dropping into the hollow of the brunet's throat, tongue coming out to leave a shining trail. "Maybe… we should go to bed," he whispered faintly, biting his lip a moment later, eyes squeezing shut at the bolts of pleasure driving through to his fingertips. Leon agreed, "Maybe we should," and sped up his actions.

They were blind to the world, deaf to anything but each other, nothing existing but sensations of the flesh and a slowly building emotion, broken free from the twin cages they had been held in, swirling between their pores.

Which was why, when Axel and Roxas entered, they didn't notice, not even when the redhead, after perhaps a minute of the pair of them staring in shock, yelped, "That's _our _dry-humping stove!" He turned to Roxas incredulously, the blond's face bright red, hands covering his mouth and cheeks, eyes glued to the scene, hearing the low groans from all the way across the room. "Roxie! They're doing it on Aerith's stove!"

Finally, Roxas jammed the heels of his palms into his eyes, skin hot. "I know! Shut up!"

"I ought to give them a piece of my – " Roxas snatched at him hysterically as he started across the hall, dragged him back out into the corridor. For a moment, they stared at each other, wide-eyed. Then Roxas muttered, "I really wish I'd just kept sleep-walking."


	34. Chapter 34

**A/N: **You guys sure know how to give a Christmas present – 1,000 reviews! That's _crazy!_ Thank you so much! Haha, the story description looks ridiculous now, there's so many damn pairings in it. So – after this one, I'm taking a few days' break over the immediate Christmas period. However, the next one should be out before New Year's – yeah, definitely. I can't not write for that long. So, until then, I hope you all have a wonderful Christmas, or if you don't celebrate it, just a damned fine time in general! You have no idea how much I'm enjoying all this – so thanks again, everyone :D I hope you like the chapter. See you in a few days!

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CHAPTER THIRTY-FOUR

There were cracks in the playground, its disintegration complete. Roxas' head swam dizzily as he staggered over the sand, bare feet kicking up clumsy plumes, some of it getting in his eyes. There was no moon, no stars, barely enough air to breathe inside the pressing darkness. Claustrophobia built beneath the choking sensation, intensifying it, making him gasp at the thin, black atmosphere. The broken play-equipment hulked like dark, skeletal monuments, their presence heavy and oily, the air around them rolling slightly. Roxas was worried, couldn't find his mom, couldn't catch his breath, was scared that the little ghosts were around somewhere and would be in danger. This place wasn't safe anymore, not for anyone.

The ground dipped unevenly in places, becoming hard, stone-like despite its soft appearance. Where he should have been sinking, he found his steps jarring, knees locking at the unexpected solidity. With an endless quality, it seemed as though the playground stretched beyond its regular boundaries, becoming a desert, the ground littered with dehydrated splits. Roxas could hear, when he paused to pant, the steady hiss of falling sand, as if he was inside an hourglass, the top cup, the floor gradually but all too quickly draining away.

He didn't even know why he was here anymore. With increasing nervousness, he was beginning to realise that, not only were things wrong, they were also… not _right. _The air… was it supposed to taste bitter like this? He sniffed cautiously, wondering if a storm was coming. There was that same sensation hovering about, that thick, still, smothering quality that suggested violence to come.

Roxas grimaced, turning slowly, wondering what he was meant to do now that he was here. Mother wasn't even around – nobody was. A deep-set, slightly panicked inner voice told him that he shouldn't be here at all. He shouldn't have come in the first place – should have stayed where the world was light, the dead remained dead, and ghosts only ever existed within memories of memories.

Feeling queasy, Roxas spied the swings, decided that sitting would be a good thing – he had to figure out a way to escape this wasteland. Flickers of memories remained from previous visits, but he didn't know how he kept getting here, or how he left each time – if indeed he was leaving at all. The thought of being trapped here was a chilling one. It made him shiver despite the skin-close encasing heat, throbbing and swirling around his head.

He started towards the swing-set, a weakness stealing through his muscles, turning them jelly-like, waves of sick prickles sweeping one after another through his flesh.

Halfway there, the ground disappeared beneath him, foot swallowed whole, the rest of him lurching down with a jerk, a startled cry. His fingers closed on handfuls of sand, bewilderment overtaking as he looked down and saw his lower leg had found a sinkhole, was consumed almost to the knee. Frowning, he steadied himself, pushed up, and though the earth resisted, sucked at him, Roxas' leg slid free. A moment later, he was blinded, a bright white light bursting forth from the opening, the edges of which had turned hard and crusted. Roxas shielded his face with one arm, squinting against the intensity.

"_Roxas."_

_-------_

Roxas sat up sharply, eyes wide, hair a mess, breaths bullet-quick, exploding in the silence. He clutched the blankets, hauled them tight around his body, knees drawing up, cocooning himself deeply away with a low whimper. Axel frowned in his continuing slumber, hands moving to pat his suddenly bare torso, shivering from the cold. His face screwed up, before relaxing as his eyes cracked open one at a time. He scowled in confusion as his bleary gaze fell upon the large huddle beside him, tangled up in Demyx's sheets. "MmmmRoxie? Gimme the blankets…" He reached out weakly, tugged ineffectively at the coverings. Pouting, the redhead rolled his face into the pillow, hovering on a knife's edge between either waking up to wrestle the sheets back to his side of the bed, or dropping back into the dark confines of sleep. An eyebrow rose slowly as he became aware of the hard panting from the teen. He frowned, rubbed his face for a moment, then mumbled, "Roxie? Lie back down, honey. Let's go back to sleep."

Roxas didn't respond. Sighing, counting to three and then clawing himself up to sitting, Axel swayed for a moment, blinking owlishly. He scratched his head, slithered closer to the blond, wrapped his arms around the bundle and buried his face into the padded crook of his neck, luxuriating in the mingled scent of them both, the warmth. "Come back to bed," he murmured. "'S'not time to get up yet." His brow creased, head tilting to the side as he heard a small noise come from the boy. He paused, waited, listening carefully. Several seconds passed, and it came again, a slight, breathy sound of distress. Axel drew back slightly, waking up a little more with the twinge of worry curling its way around his heart. "Roxas?" Roxas didn't acknowledge him, hadn't in the entire time he'd been awake. He shifted his hold on the boy and shook him sternly. "Roxas, answer me." Nothing.

Fear threading his veins, Axel crawled quickly around in front of the teen, grabbed the blanket and tugged it from his head, exposing the blond spikes, the pale skin, the blank, tear-filled eyes. Baffled, he reached out, touched his face gently. "Roxas, what's the matter? Why're you crying?" Silence. Not even a blink, the moisture building and trailing down his cheeks, the lids refusing to close. Axel frowned, leaned hesitantly closer, trying to engage the empty gaze. "Roxas. Hey. It's me. How you doing in there?" He waved a hand in front of his face, scared now, not accustomed to such a lack of reaction in the blond, whether negative, positive or in-between. "Roxas!" His voice snapped through the air, and Roxas continued to give his tiny, voiceless whimpers, the tears continued to slide. Axel was beginning to realise that maybe, just maybe, the people who'd told him about Roxas' behaviour that last couple days hadn't been exaggerating. Maybe Vincent _hadn't_ not been trying hard enough, maybe Aerith _hadn't_ been mothering too much, maybe Leon and Cloud _hadn't_ been looking for reasons to piss him off.

"Jesus." Axel's face was contorted with his fear, as he seized the sides of Roxas' face and angled it up, trying to find something within the blond that recognised him. "Roxas, you've got to wake up. Listen to me! For God's sake, blink your eyes!"

-------

Roxas hissed through his teeth, eyes narrowed to slits to protect them from the pain of the piercing light. Confusion filled him. "Mom?"

"_Roxas…"_

Her voice – it was coming from… the hole? He crept a few cautious steps forward, lowering his arms, squinting through the brightness. "Mom?" He couldn't see anything but the whiteness. He shifted closer, trying to peer in, nearly blinded himself in doing so. He wheeled away, rubbing his eyes desperately, feeling a slow burn start up in his left temple. There was a crumbling noise, he felt a slight give at his heel, glanced down and saw the ground he was standing on disintegrating at its edges, the pieces disappearing into the light as though vaporised. Quickly, he moved away, over to a more solid position. Further out, deeper into the darkness, it didn't hurt to look at the light. He followed it with his eyes, saw it leap into the sky and seem to go on forever, a blazing beam. He tried, incredibly hard, to find some part of his mind that wasn't unnerved by this, some memory holding an ounce of understanding, but all he found was a terrible uneasiness.

He had heard her voice – his mother, she was around here somewhere. The hole. But – what was she doing there? Wasn't the playground unsafe now? Why had she returned to this place?

"_Roxas. Follow mother."_

He sucked in a breath, eyebrows drawing low. Yes – she was in the hole. Or – her voice was. She was coming from the hole. Eyes narrowing uncertainly, a grimace in place, he moved reluctantly closer again. "Mom? Are – are you in there?"

Her breath was a gust of cold wind, swirling up, a long, voiceless whisper. _"Roxasss."_

It swept from the hole, wrapped around him, urged him on, begged for him to enter the light. He waved his arms about sharply, ridding the air of the smokiness, slicing the hiss apart, so that echoes of it ricocheted off in various directions, seeming to bounce from the invisible, wall-like boundaries of the playground. There was a crackling sound, and a chunk of the edge crumbled, fell away, leaving room for more of the sight-stealing light to burst forth in its absence.

"_Roxas… Come to mother…"_

"What's going on?" he demanded fearfully, voice stronger than he thought it would be. A swift wind blew, hot and cold, smelling of the desert, of snow, of confusion and illness, and she replied, _"Mother is sick… Come to mother, and we will get better together… Come to where the bad boy cannot reach…"_

Roxas' mouth curled, the nausea leaping from his stomach to his throat. Was this a reaction to her words, or was he actually _sick? _Get better _together? _"I'm fine, mom," he called. "I – I don't need to get better."

The white, swirling wind wrapped itself around him, tight circles, hair lifting, covering his eyes, clothes rustling, bewilderment filling him. Misty fingers plucked at his shirt, urged him toward the hole. Another section of the earth baked dry and crumbled away, the hole becoming less concise, messy, starting to gape. More of the light emerged, piercing a little more of the sky, obliterating another few inches of darkness. He felt her in the air, her presence, her voice in his veins, and grew angry. "I don't want to! Leave me alone, mom!"

"_Be a good boy, Roxas. Follow mother."_

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"Roxas, damn it, cut this shit _out." _Axel had his shoulders, shook him roughly, and still the blond continued to weep, the noises from his throat growing louder, his eyes unseeing but filled with some unnameable emotion, a dark one, a thin one, the kind that Axel would give almost anything to take away from him. Something was _wrong _with Roxas this time. This had to be worse than what had happened previously – this had to more extreme than the episodes that had been described to him. He had heard no mention of tears, nothing about fear. Talking, yes, wandering, some level of intelligence and a stark, distant awareness, but nothing like _this. _Roxas looked as if he were fighting off a nightmare.

"Roxas! Wake _up!" _

The blond hitched in a sharp breath, let out a shuddering breath that was half a groan. "Mom, _no. _Leave me _alone."_

Axel paused, eyes widening, fingers tightening. "What? I'm not your _mom, _Roxas." He gripped the boy's chin, forced it up, gaze burning down into the blue eyes, trying to tell if Roxas was coming around. "I'm here, Roxie. It's me – Axel. Can you hear me?"

"_I don't want to," _he moaned, head lolling on a weak, suddenly limp neck. He slumped, crying in earnest now. Axel caught him, eased him down, desperately anxious. He didn't know what to _do._

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With a resounding rumble, the ground shook, the shudders bolting up Roxas' legs, painful in their intensity. Without any further warning, long, jagged splits appeared in the earth, racing from the white hole, the sand leaking instantly away, swallowed in seconds. Sucking each breath from between his teeth, Roxas stepped quickly away from the nearest crack, felt the playground floor growing softer, less stable. _"Roxas must join with mother… Roxas is the only one that can save her…"_

"No! Damn it, mom! What the hell is going on?" he roared over the increasing noise, the world itself seeming to vibrate with the reverberations. The white wind burst up in a narrow tornado. Something shining and slippery dwelled within it, some undefinable shape, some kind of – of _awareness. _Roxas watched, sick and touched with horror, as the creature, white as snow, sinuous like water, cast the wind away. His eyes widened as the substance took shape, became a glowing figure. "Mom?"

Her eyes were sightless, her nose shut, lips sealed, hair shifting slowly through the air like so many snakes attached to her head. _"Roxas. Follow mother."_

His breaths were quick, heart pounding with painful intensity in his chest, the fear overwhelming now, hideous, like some kind of poison flooding his system. His hands formed shaking fists, lips parting, a croak exiting his mouth, hopelessness and dread twisting his expression. He shook his head, the motion short and sharp, apprehensive. "No, mom. I don't want to. I – I won't."

A low hiss, an exasperated sigh, winding around his feet. _"Why are you disobedient to me, my son? I have asked you to follow me." _Her voice was calm, sounding – almost like she used to. Almost like she was – _herself_ again. Uncertainty flooded the teen, a section of him wavering at that familiar timbre, comforted by it. He remembered what it was to have a mother, to want to make her happy, to be held in pride…

But…

"But… you're _dead," _he said softly. "Axel told me so. Axel… took me to see you. There's nothing left but…" He lifted his face, features twisted in pain and confusion. "Bones." The wind became cold. "I said good-bye to your bones. You shouldn't _be_ here, mom. _I_ shouldn't be here. You need… to let me _go."_

"_I told you, Roxas, that it is not I who is the dead one. Your mother died many years ago, but she and I are not one and the same. I was not the one to give you flesh, but I _am _the one to have given you _life. _You will not turn your back on mother. I am mother. And you will obey me, my lovely, good boy."_

-------

"I'm a good boy, I'm a good boy," Roxas whispered fretfully, rocking quickly back and forth, hands clamped over his feet. "I'm a good boy."

"You're a good boy," Axel agreed soothingly, mindlessly hugging him, wanting to go for help, but too scared to leave him, too afraid to move him. He just didn't know what was happening, didn't know what to _do. _Roxas was losing his mind, and there was nothing Axel could think of to save him. Vincent had been _right, _damn it. Axel couldn't save Roxas – he could only watch what could easily be his reason for living fade into some broken form of madness. There was nothing _anyone _could do. "Damn it, Roxas," he muttered, giving the boy a squeeze, a shake. "Wake the fuck up, you goddamn son of a _bitch."_

-------

"I'm leaving now, mom," Roxas said quietly, not bothering to raise his voice above the rush of air, knowing she could hear him, would probably hear if he _thought _the words. Whoever she was, whatever shade had risen from his mother's grave when he had gone to see her bones, she _wasn't _his mom. Not really. She was just – some pale, shivering replica. He turned his back on her, and walked away, eyes trained on the swing-set.

"_Roxas will follow mother, whether he wants to or not. He will break bones for mother. He will join her, and make her healthy again. He is the only one. You are the only son that can save me."_

He ignored her, ignored the shiver that crept along his spine, kept his pace steady. And then the ground shattered, and fell away. With an enormous grinding, a crack like thunder splitting the sky apart, the earth was rent, slabs of it dropping into the hole, becoming a chasm. Roxas started to run, not looking back, gaze fixed desperately on the swings, some ridiculous hope telling him that he would be safe there, safe where Axel had once been. Awareness was filtering through, piece by piece, telling him that none of this was _right, _he was inside a _dream – _damn it, _this was a dream. _It always had been! There _was _no playground!

The skeleton of the jungle-gym was swallowed into the white maw, the see-saw falling and vanishing, the bench where the ghost mothers had laughed and chatted ceasing to be. Roxas' feet flew across the ground, took him to the swings. He reached them with a cry of relief, seized the chains, twisted and saw the playground floor fragmenting in a wave, the white light devouring it, and showing no signs of slowing. Terror surged as he realised that it wasn't going to stop – the swings would go, too, and he with them. He left their false harbour, leapt for the black edge of the dream-arena, hit a hard, unyielding nothing, invisible walls as real as the ones that had kept him in Twilight Town all those years. Only this time, there was no Axel around to save him. No one could reach him here, in this manipulated environment. He turned, saw the swing-set list heavily, the earth dissolving, the metal bars leaning drunkenly towards the shining abyss.

And then, the world was water.

Roxas gasped, choked, flailed wildly and fell off the bed with a thump and a groan. He was being smothered, was encased, thrust away at whatever was wrapped around him with a startled cry, thrashing. It was ripped away suddenly, and he froze, found himself staring up at Axel, who peered down worriedly from the bed, on his hands and knees, Demyx's blankets hanging in one hand. Roxas was… dripping. For a long moment, they stared at each other, both sets of eyes holding a measure of wildness. Then Axel asked, voice low, "Roxie? Is that you?"

He stuttered, "Wh-wh-what happened?" He reached up, wiped his face, stared at the shine on his palm. "Why am I – wet?" He blinked hard as some of it entered one eye, the sore one, and rubbed fiercely for a moment. Axel let out a soft exclamation, leapt from the bed, landing in a crouch beside the teen, gathering him up and pulling him hard into his arms, not caring about how it hurt his shoulder, or Roxas' ribs, not really feeling anything other than the overwhelming relief and shock of the aftermath.

"God, Roxas." He tugged the teen into his lap, dug his nose into the damp hair.

"Why am I wet?" Roxas repeated, hopelessly confused.

"Demyx. He keeps bottles of water in the wardrobe, because he doesn't like feeling thirsty at night. Holy _shit, _Roxas!" He turned the boy's head towards him, anger threatening to overwhelm. "What the _fuck _just happened?"

Roxas blinked, still rubbing at his eye, slower now. "I – did I sleep-walk?"

"You sleep-freaked-the-fuck-out," the redhead snapped. Roxas squinted.

"What – do you mean? Did I do something bad?"

The redhead cradled his chin in one hand, meeting his gaze with bewilderment. "Do you really – not know? You don't remember _anything?" _

Roxas' eyes shifted slightly, a frown developing slowly. "I think…" he said softly, "I – I might have had a nightmare. I don't remember the details, but…" He reached up, massaged his bare chest, fingers pressing the skin over his heart. "I can still sort of – feel the fear. It was… really _scary." _

"You're telling _me," _Axel replied, voice unnaturally high. For a moment he stared at the teen, shaking his head. Then he hugged him again, arms tight around him. "I didn't even know if you were awake or not. I didn't know _what _was going on. You wouldn't _wake."_

Roxas weathered the almost rough actions of the other man, allowed himself to be crushed against his chest, resting his cheek against the hot skin. "Thanks for managing to bring me back," he murmured. "I don't think I want to go _there _again. Wherever I was…"

For several minutes, they sat on the ground together, calming down, muscles relaxing a little from their hard, tense state. Roxas found his eyes drifting shut again, soothed by Axel's heartbeat, but the redhead would have none of this. When he saw the teen's eyelashes flicker, he wrenched Roxas back sharply, making him gasp, blinking rapidly. "No way, Rox," Axel said fervently. "Not again, not tonight. Have you ever considered a caffeine drip? I really think it would work great."

Roxas looked at him incredulously. "Axel, I can't just never _sleep. _What happened to, 'it'll all be fine, we can fix this'?"

"Well, obviously it's less fine than I thought," Axel snapped back. "You can sleep tomorrow if you have to, we'll figure out some excuse or something to get you out of lessons with Zexion and Demyx, but damn it, Roxas, I can _not _go through that again tonight!"

"You? What about _me?" _Roxas demanded shrilly. "I _am _the one it's _happening _to, you know!"

"Yeah," Axel conceded unhappily, slipping the teen to the floor and standing, "but _you _don't have to _watch _it. You don't even remember it afterwards! You don't – " He stopped, took a step away, looked down at the blond, expression touched with worry. "You don't know what it's _like, _Roxie. I don't know about you, but I _can't _sleep anymore tonight. And since you're to blame, I don't see why you should, either."

Roxas raised an eyebrow. "Oh, so you're taking the mature approach then?"

"Please, Rox." Axel didn't look at him, kept his head down as he went to where his clothing was scrunched on the stone floor. "I really can't go back to bed."

Roxas drew his knees up, hugging them, eyes fixed on the slender, angular form of the other man, watching as he pulled on his black jeans, motions quick and jerky, anxious. As he tugged his shirt on, pulling it over the scarlet spikes, he turned back to Roxas, looking up to see the boy still down beside the bed in his boxers. He hesitated, pulled the hem down to rest at his belt, asked uncertainly, "Roxas? Are you okay? You didn't – fall asleep again, did you?"

Roxas glanced up, shook his head. "It was that bad, huh? So you think – I'm maybe getting worse?"

Axel cringed, scratched the back of his neck. "Oh, ah, I really don't know, Rox. I haven't seen enough to be able to judge…"

"But you've seen enough to not want to go through it again," the blond said quietly. "So it was _bad, _then." His expression wavered, a desperation entering his eyes. "I don't mean to be bad, Axel. I – I just want to be _good."_

Axel felt his heart chill at the words – _"I'm a good boy, I'm a good boy" – _and moved to crouch down in front of the teen. He ran his hands down Roxas' shoulders and upper arms. "Rox, look, I'm sorry. I didn't want to scare you. You're _fine, _okay? You're – as good as they come. So – how about you get up now, okay? Get up, and we'll get you dressed, and we'll go get some coffee or something. Okay?"

Roxas tipped his chin to one side, lowering his gaze, fighting off a growing sensation of unease. He could hear the pleading in Axel's tone, knew that the man was truly shaken by whatever had happened. Nothing violent, nothing actively negative, but… he could just about taste the anxiety rolling through the air. He closed his eyes, sighed, rubbing at his nose. "Help me up?"

Axel's hands were gentler now than they had been before, thumbs rubbing his elbows. As Roxas ran his fingers through his hair, swept the last clinging droplets of water from his skin, Axel hunted about for his clothing, trying not to think about what would have happened if they'd been anywhere but Demyx's room. Roxas' hands folded into his armpits, he sniffed and shivered as the cold started registering in his dumbfounded state. Axel came over with his pants and shirt, tried to assist but was waved off, Roxas taking them from him and dressing quickly. Once he was ready, he looked up at Axel, who studied him tensely. He forced a smile. "I'm okay now, Axel. Really."

The redhead, unsuccessfully keeping the doubt from his features, merely nodded back. Slinging a customary arm around the blond's shoulders, Roxas' hand coming up to cling at his shirt, they went to the door. Axel hesitated, the blue eyes shot over. "You have the key, right?"

The tall man drew a deep, guilty breath, and reached out to simply open the door. "I – I thought you were just…"

Roxas' eyebrows shot up. "Am I in the _habit _of blowing things out of proportion, or were you in some denial there?"

Axel shook his head, frustrated with himself. "I'm – sorry, Rox. I didn't… think…"

Roxas' eyes narrowed. "I guess not."

It seemed like something was determined to make it so that they couldn't quite be perfectly happy or at ease with one another. Since the moment they'd met, it was like – the good moments? They were just flashes within the darkness. They sustained Roxas, gave him hope, made him feel loved and protected for the most part… but God, it was taking its toll. As they walked down the corridors, yet again a silence between them, creating a gap despite the warmth of their touching bodies, he closed his eyes, sent his thoughts upward to the sky, and outward to anyone who might have been listening, begging in the lowest mental whisper he could muster to please, please make things better, please make it hardship within _happiness_ instead of happiness within _hardship_. He was tired of everything being _hard, _damn it. And in the pit of his stomach, the back of his mind, some sharp-toothed voice warned of the day when _Axel _would tire of it, too. There was a limit to how far someone's love could stretch, no matter what the redhead might profess. A fear rose quietly and settled in his chest, that maybe he was more trouble than he was worth. He buried his face into the side of Axel's shirt, inhaling, clenching his teeth against the awful pessimism that could only exist so clearly in the smallest hours like this, after so many horrible happenings.

"I'll get the coffee going," Axel murmured as they approached the dining hall entrance, "and we'll just sit up til dawn, okay? Maybe, I don't know, we can just…"

They stopped, several feet into the hall, and stared. Over at the kitchen, gasping and shifting, were Leon and what was unmistakably Cloud, kissing desperately. Leon's hips moved jerkily against the blond man's, eliciting small groans and soft, breathless cries. Roxas felt the blood rush to his face, a tingling in his legs as his hands flew up to clamp against his face. He squeaked, unable to tear his gaze away. For a long minute, what felt like eternity, the blond and redhead simply stared, still too stunned from earlier to be able to form any kind of proper response. It wasn't until Axel yelped in an injured tone, "That's _our _dry-humping stove!" that Roxas was wrenched from his almost voyeuristic daze. "Roxie! They're doing it on Aerith's stove!"

Roxas covered his eyes. "I know! Shut up!"

"I ought to give them a piece of my – " Axel began to move. Roxas opened his eyes, panicked, lunged for him, snatched his shirt in one hand and a hank of red hair in the other, and dragged him bodily from the room.

Back in the corridor, sense began to return to them. Their eyes locked, wide, faces flushed, images and sounds burnt into their minds. Roxas felt like his brain was going to explode.

"I really wish I'd just kept sleep-walking."

And then Axel started giggling. He clamped his hands over his mouth, snorted loudly, and couldn't find a way to stop. Roxas stared at him for a moment, before something bubbled out from his own throat, almost like a hiccup, and that was it – he was gone. They bent over each other, giggling and gasping, biting their lips to try and keep the noise from travelling while they were still within range of the dining hall. They scuttled away as quickly as possible. Once they escaped the vicinity, Axel dropped his hands and let out a donkey's bray of a laugh, staggering to slam against the wall, clutching his stomach as tears of mirth leaked down his face. Roxas was beside him, hysterical, his laughter shrill. Green eyes met blue, and for a while they just let themselves vanish inside the frenzy, burning out the vestiges of the last several hours, scraping them clean of the filth and adhering oil that had dragged them down since the sun had set.

When he was capable of speech again, Axel panted, _"Leon… and – and – "_

"Cloud," Roxas yelped, nodding, biting down on his knuckles to keep from lapsing back into the hysteria. They snorted and sniggered.

"I had _heard – _but I – I never would've – never would've _thought," _Axel cried, lips stretched painfully, cheeks aching. "Oh, _man, _wait til I tell Yuffie and Tifa! Man, those two are going to _flip!"_

Roxas bit his lip, wiped his eyes with the heels of his palms. "A-a-are you sure that's a good idea? Maybe they – they don't want anyone to know yet…"

"Then they shouldn't have been dry-humping on – on _our stove!" _They burst off into fresh gales of howling.

"We're gonna need a new appliance," Roxas croaked shakily. "I'm n-not having their sloppy-seconds…"

"Nooo, I don't want to think of anything being sloppy," Axel groaned. "Nooo, that's _Leon _in my head now… Oh, God, I want to die…" Then he shot Roxas a sly look, twisted suddenly, grabbed the teen's wrists and pinned them to the wall. "Feel like giving me something else to think about?"

"Haha, heh, it – it was pretty hot," the blond admitted weakly. For a second, Axel's eyes widened, the greens bright and startled.

"Holy shit," he breathed. "You _liked that?"_

Roxas scowled. "I'm not a _perv, _if that's what you're…" He broke off as Axel eagerly licked his throat. "Um… what…?"

"You have no idea how sexy you are," the redhead growled. "I love finding these things out about you…" He smirked, drew back and tapped the tip of the boy's nose. "So Roxie's a _voyeur, _is he? Now _that _is _hot. _Leon and Cloud have got _nothing _on you."

"I-if you say so," the blond replied faintly. He shook his head as Axel tried to kiss him. "I – I don't think…" His words were muffled, swallowed up by the other mouth, his heartbeat shooting up a notch. He pulled back. "I – they were totally just…" He laughed briefly. "I can _not _make out with you after watching those two. No way."

"But you _liked _it, didn't you?" Axel muttered, hovering near his ear, still clutching his wrists tightly. Roxas shrugged a little, trying to keep his head from swimming at the sensation.

"I – I don't know… but I'm still not going to – to do anything just because I thought they looked…"

"Hmm." Axel pulled back with a broad, devious smile. "You thought they _looked…?" _He raised an eyebrow. "Well, we certainly can't go back for _coffee, _Roxie. What do you suggest we do until _dawn?"_

Roxas rolled his eyes up, thinking desperately. "We could – we could go for a walk? Out in the fresh air?"

Axel dulled slightly. "We can't do that," he said, momentarily serious. "That guy might still be around. Vincent's good, but he's not infallible."

"The _garden, _then," Roxas pleaded. "I need some – some fresh air or something, Axel. It's too hot in here."

Lust darkened the green eyes, Axel lowering his face to watch the boy from under his brow. "I think you might be right…" he said softly, suggestively. "Though I don't suppose you'd reconsider… bed?"

Roxas almost gave in, knees weakening sharply at the vibrating tone of the redhead's voice. He was tempted to just let go and let Axel carry him away to wherever he wanted… but in the back of his mind remained the – the nightmare, whatever it was, whatever it was that Roxas _couldn't quite remember..._ That _fear_ still pulsed beneath the desire that had flooded his senses, and it insisted that bed – _wasn't _where he wanted to be right now. No matter the company, no matter the intent. He shrank into himself, shook his head. "I – I'd like to just… sit in the cold for a while."

Sensing the switch in his mood, Axel frowned, studied him. At length, he nodded. "All right. If that's what you want." He smiled crookedly. "Bed can always wait… it's not like we haven't got time, right?"

Roxas returned the expression gratefully, leaned forward and kissed the man tenderly. "Thank you."

Axel's face was soft. "Of course." He released the teen's wrists and stepped back. Roxas followed, wrapped his arms around the redhead's narrow waist, and even when they started to walk, he didn't remove them. In this awkward fashion, they went off to the garden, to sit in the coolness, under the waning moon, with their blood long dried on the grass, and waited for dawn to come.


	35. Chapter 35

**A/N: **Annnnnd we're back! Because I'm stupid and have no idea how many days there are in December. There's a few PM's and reviews I haven't replied to yet, but I'm getting around to them, I swear. My computer time has been a little more limited lately, so it's just going to take a short while for me to grow accustomed to the lesser time period. I hope everyone had a great holiday, or if you didn't, congrats on surviving :P

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CHAPTER THIRTY-FIVE

With Axel's head in his lap, the red eyelashes flickering against pale, tattooed cheeks, Roxas watched the sunrise, the square of sky visible from the garden lightening shade by shade. He sighed quietly, feeling a measure of his anxiety subside, melted away by those first warming rays. Night was done again, for now. It was over. He leaned his head back against the chipped, ivy-covered wall, fingers sliding absently across Axel's forehead and through his vivid hair. They'd been in this position for almost an hour, since Axel had claimed the need to 'rest his eyes'. Roxas didn't mind – sunrise was made for silence. It felt right, sitting here in the icy cold, feeling the gentle rhythms of Axel's breaths, hearing nothing but the distant whisper of air and the occasional waking bird. At the moment, with everything as increasingly complicated as it was, something _right _for once was a blessing. It reconnected Roxas to reality, returned the faintest remembrance to him that his wasn't the only life in existence – there were so many people out there, asleep or awake, and none of them would ever even know he existed… They wouldn't worry, or stress, or care… This was a comfort. The world _didn't _revolve around him – it was good to know. He was as globally insignificant as ever.

Axel murmured, shifted a little, Roxas' touch pausing until he settled again. He resumed the feather-light ministrations, Axel's head warming a slightly different section of his thighs, leaving the other parts to grow as cold and stiff as the rest of him. The stone bench was unforgivingly hard, numbing, making him feel as though the flesh had gone and left him sitting on only bone. He twitched an ankle to the side, wriggling unfeeling toes against the damp grass. A light, freezing dew had fallen across the world, clinging to his skin, his eyelids, his hair. He wondered if maybe, if they stayed here long enough, they would just become a part of the garden. And when people came to find them, they would stare at the statues the two had become, startled by the likeness, then shake their heads and keep on searching… Sitting in this vast hush, the idea of being able to melt into the wall and forever be a pair of eyes peering out was almost viable.

Axel stirred, Roxas tipping his head down, smiling at the scowl that was working its way across the redhead's features. His fingers stilled again, as Axel wriggled around onto his back, grunting and muttering nonsensically. With a deep, disgruntled inhalation, Axel's eyes opened. He blinked hazily at the sky, before ticking his green gaze slightly to the side, meeting weary, affectionate blue. "It's morning," Axel observed, sounding surprised and relieved, voice thick and slow. Roxas brushed an imaginary hair from his cheek, nodded peacefully.

"It is. Has been for about ten minutes now."

Axel squinted blearily. "…I fell asleep."

"You needed it," Roxas said with a shrug.

"You need it more," the redhead replied doubtfully. "Sorry."

The teenager shook his head. "Shut up." He bent, hunching awkwardly, and placed a kiss on the simultaneously cold but warm lips. They parted slightly, the pair of them for a moment simply breathing the other in. Roxas pulled back with a smile, tracing Axel's tattoos with his fingertips. The man took a moment to study him, eyes shifting from feature to feature. "You look – better. How in the hell do you look better than I feel, when I'm the one that just took the nap?"

Roxas raised a wry brow. "Nervous energy is my new best friend." He shrugged, lifted his gaze to the gold-touched sky, the stars momentarily pure white. "Besides, it's day again. Nothing bad happens when it's sunny, and everyone else is awake."

Axel followed his stare, joined in surveying the heavens. "Bad things don't wait for weather, Rox," he murmured. "The sun isn't going to make this go away."

Roxas sighed, flicked the end of the man's nose. "That's right, burst my bubble. My point is, I've never sleep-walked in daytime, so if I crash later, it's not a big deal. I should be safe. And if I _do _happen to, someone's bound to see me."

Axel nodded slowly. "Either way, I'll be there to take care of you."

Roxas smoothed the long red spikes. "What about work? You were starting again today. And I have my techie training to continue…"

Axel scowled. "Three words, Rox." He held up the matching number of fingers and counted them off. "Fuck. The. World. We need sleep, and we _can't _let you continue like this – you need _help. _I'll go see about switching my shift with someone – hell, I'll take off another _week_ if I have to. I might not have liked last night, but I am _not _letting you go through that alone. You understand me? I'm not going anywhere, or doing anything, until someone has a _solution _to this."

"You really don't have to," Roxas mumbled.

Axel's gaze hardened. "No shit. But don't you try to change my mind, Roxas, because you need this as much as I do. Don't pretend you'll be fine when it's so fucking obvious you won't."

Rather than being disheartened by the little speech, Roxas felt warmth fill him, a lift of gratitude that made him want to start kissing the man and never necessarily stop. He sent his eyes back up to the sky, the stars disappearing one by one. "It's nice, isn't it? Watching the sunrise?" He was thoughtful. "I don't know how long it's been since I was up early enough to see one. Well, except for when I was with the Committee… but it's not like I could enjoy it."

Axel watched him for a silent moment. "…Yeah. Me either."

Roxas frowned a little. "When you think about it… this is actually the first real sunrise I've ever sat down to watch."

"Since you were five, anyway," Axel murmured.

The blond sighed. "I wish I could remember back then. I wish I could remember _you." _

Axel shifted, directing his eyes over, lifting a hand to rest the knuckles against Roxas' chest, drawing his gaze down again. "You're here with me _now," _the redhead reminded him softly. "That's all that matters. I don't need you to remember us when we were kids, Rox."

The teen smiled crookedly. "Yeah. Thanks." He laced their hands together, and watched Axel's eyes close in contentment. He rocked his knee a little, saying, "Hey, no falling asleep again."

"Who, me? I'm just resting my eyes…"

"_That's _what you said _last _time."

"Just five more minutes?"

Roxas smirked, drew his feet back, and abruptly stood. He caught sight of startled green eyes, before Axel dropped with a thud. "Oww. Ah, it's fucking cold," he whined, sitting up and rubbing his head. "Some boyfriend you are."

Roxas stepped over him, kicking him with a heel. "Come on, _boyfriend. _Get up. I'm finally confident that the kitchen isn't scary anymore, so I want some coffee."

"But I thought you _liked _that little display," the redhead leered. He grabbed the bench and hauled himself up, as Roxas flipped him off and kept walking. He trotted to catch up, catching the blond in a hug from behind, pausing his steps. "You're all damp," Roxas mumbled. Axel rested his nose against the back of his neck.

"Mm-hm." He kissed the soft mixture of hair and skin at the nape, making Roxas shiver slightly, leaning back into his embrace. "Good morning," Axel whispered.

"I agree," Roxas whispered back. The man kissed his ear, and pushed Roxas gently to get him moving again. They entered the castle, the air becoming instantly warm in comparison to the frigid outdoors. They returned to Demyx's room to pull some shoes on, Axel noticing that Roxas refused to glance at the bed, gaze stoically averted. He wouldn't even sit on it to tie his laces.

They exited into the hall, pulling the door shut, Axel thrusting his hands into his pockets and leaning across to kiss Roxas on the nose. "I'm going to go rearrange the roster before anyone's awake enough to disagree, okay? Go get your coffee. I'll be there soon." He grinned wolfishly. "Who knows what you might be doing when I get there? That kitchen obviously inspires eroticism. Maybe we should claim the refrigerator instead…"

Roxas rolled his eyes. "I don't even want to know what you think we could do with the refrigerator."

A gleam entered the green eyes. "Good point. I was thinking just up against it, but imagine the possibilities – all that food inside it…"

"Holy freaking shit, good-bye now!" Roxas wheeled around, clutching his ears, leaving Axel to his churning thought processes, hearing the low, giddy chuckle the man gave before passing around the corner. Shaking his head, he dropped his hands, tucking them into his armpits for warmth, lonely scraping steps echoing off the walls. He rubbed his face hard for a moment, trying to stave off the incredible tiredness hovering over his head. Somehow, it was easier to stay alert when Axel was around. Even when the man had been sleeping, Roxas had been busy watching him, playing with his hair, studying the contours of his face. When he was by himself like this, it all became harder to resist, heavier. He yearned for the growing light that would be spilling through the broad windows of the dining hall, the coffee that was cold now but could be reheated. It would be so indescribably nice to just sit down and consume something hot and caffeinated.

When he entered the hall, he hesitated, realising that he wasn't the first despite the early hour. The electric lights were off, the parts of the hall that the golden sunlight had yet to touch dim and cold-looking. Aerith was over at the kitchen, skirt rustling, the sleeves of her denim jacket once again pulled over her hands as she hummed quietly to herself and pulled out various ingredients from the fridges and cupboards. Roxas wondered if he should leave – she was content like this, these solo moments no doubt rare, and he didn't want to disturb that with the worry she always seemed to feel whenever he was around.

Before he could make up his mind, Aerith spotted him as she whirled away from the stove with a carton of eggs in hand. She paused, eyebrows shooting up, the peaceful smile on her lips faltering, before growing wide and warm. She set the eggs down, came over. Awkwardly, Roxas shuffled to her, meeting her halfway. She touched her fingertips to his chin, lifted his face to peer into his eyes, her own clear and bright. Her expression dropped slightly upon inspection. "It happened again, didn't it?"

Knowing full well what 'it' was, he muttered, "What makes you think that?"

She frowned briefly. "Roxas, you should see yourself. I don't know if you're going to keel over or throw up." Her cool touch moved around to the sides of his face. "You're so pale…"

He shrugged her off, embarrassed, shamed, shaking his head. "I'm really okay, Aerith. Axel's been taking care of me. It's not a big deal."

She tipped her head to the side, smiling gently, though not able to eradicate the traces of concern from her features. "Well, as long as Axel's with you…" She withdrew her hands, returning them to their warm hideouts. "Feel like something to eat?"

The blond eyed the stove uncertainly, the carton of eggs beside it, grimaced. "Maybe some… cereal." Aerith lifted an eyebrow, evidently not accustomed to people refusing a hot, fresh breakfast, but allowed him his decision. He followed her over to the counter, wondering uneasily if he should warn her… His cheeks heated up at the mere thought of what had happened here last night. He definitely couldn't tell Aerith about that – it was too mortifying to admit to. But he had to avert his eyes as she got the coils heating, placed a pan over them, cracked the eggs… What would she say, if she knew? He had to suppress a nervous giggle, as she grabbed a bowl and box of cereal, shaking some out for him, adding the milk, the spoon. "Coffee?" she inquired, to which he emphatically nodded. She got some going, a pot already freshly prepared, and slowly the scent of coffee beans filled the air, soothing Roxas back from his agitated Leon-Cloud state. At last, when she had brewed his coffee, made herself a cup of tea, and tipped the eggs onto a plate for herself, she smiled at him and they carried their breakfast over to the table nearest to the windows.

Seeming to understand his need to leave the previous night's activities alone, Aerith said, "I'm heading into town this evening for an early dinner with Marluxia. Is there anything you want me to pick up?"

Roxas stared blankly. "You're having dinner with – Marluxia?" Pink-haired, alleged-pervert? With _Aerith? _

The blond must have looked taken-aback, because Aerith smiled patiently, explaining, "Marluxia is my friend, Roxas. We have no romantic interest in each other, so get that look off your face."

Relief flooded through, he grinned in response. "In that case… Can I come with you?"

She paused, teacup halfway to her mouth, puzzled. "You'd like to have dinner with us?"

He shook his head, eagerness building beneath his sternum at the sudden idea in his mind. "Will you be going when the sun is still up? Will we get there by sunset?"

She frowned. "…Yes… I'll be leaving at five, he's picking me up."

Excitement bubbled up. "Then can I please come? And Axel? I… I promised him we'd find somewhere to watch the clouds and stuff at sunset. Because he really liked doing that in Twilight Town, and – and said he never got the chance to here, and…" He trailed off at the sight of her unhappy expression.

"Roxas, I think that's a wonderful idea, but it's just too dangerous at the moment. Vincent only just left yesterday to hunt down your attacker, and until he's found, we have no idea where the man might be. If he were to follow you… Neither of you is any state to be fighting. I doubt Axel can even properly lift anything yet, let alone be swinging those weapons of his around…"

The blond deflated abruptly, eyes sinking to his bowl. "…Oh."

Desperately sympathetic, she said, "I'm so _sorry, _Roxas. If I'd known, I never would have… Oh, I'm sorry."

He shook his head shortly. "It's okay. I understand. It's for our own good, right?" The disappointment stung hideously. For a moment there, he'd actually thought he and Axel were going to be able to do something _nice _together. He thought – he'd be able to keep his promise, so easy to make on Sunset Hill, before he knew what it all would entail.

Sucking on her bottom lip anxiously, Aerith drummed her nails against the tabletop. "Look, I – I'll see what I can do. I won't make any promises, but… it's such a lovely _idea… _And I just know it would make Axel happier than anything… Oh, dear. Okay. I'll try my best, I _promise."_

Roxas eyed her uncertainly, not quite willing to raise his hopes again. "Okay. Whatever." Aerith sighed, no doubt used to, and sick of, having moody males saying, 'Whatever' in that disinterested tone, and wondering how she'd been lumped with yet another one. Roxas dug his spoon into the cereal, suddenly not so hungry. He wrapped his free hand around his mug, ignoring the burn against his skin, and lifted it to his lips, swallowing some of the hot liquid. He sighed, waited for Axel to return. At least if the redhead was around, that would make him feel better. And at least the disappointment was only his own, since he hadn't really thought about it until the moment Aerith had said about going into town… and at _just the right time… _Sometimes, especially lately, life was a _bitch. _

It wasn't long before Aerith and Roxas found themselves with company, the early risers emerging, and to the blond's absolute and utter vexation, two of said early-birds were Leon and Cloud. Oh, God. Hearing the footsteps, he had naturally turned to see who had arrived, hoping for it to be Axel. His face flamed, a little gasp hitching from his throat as he spun back around, eyes like dinner-plates. Aerith's gaze was curious upon him, frowning a little in bewilderment at his reaction. "Roxas?"

He forced a grin, managed to look manic, and started shovelling down cereal again, teeth clacking loudly against the spoon as he prayed that they'd become a cemented couple overnight and would find a quiet corner of the room to feed each other breakfast. But _no. _Aforementioned _bitch _that life was, they came ambling over to where the teenager and woman sat. They weren't touching each other, they weren't exchanging loving glances or cooing at each other – they even went so far as to take separate sides of the _table… _Leon taking the place beside Roxas, who sank further down, dribbling milk in distress. It felt very much like his head was going to spontaneously combust, taking his neck out with it.

"Morning," Cloud grunted, while Leon rubbed slowly at his eyes and allowed himself to wake up further before attempting speech. Aerith smiled sweetly.

"How are you two doing today?"

There was an interminable pause. _Didn't she notice the pause? _God, it stretched for, like, _an hour. _This long, long, _awful _pause, in which every male at the table thought, _Well, sleepy, coz we stayed up all night FUCKING ON YOUR STOVE, _only with Roxas it was replacing _we _with _they, _and _oh, my God. _This was too hard. He was going to erupt.

"Uh… are you okay?" Roxas' head swivelled, he met Leon's gaze wildly. He grinned suddenly, forgetting the mouthful he had yet to swallow. He choked, swiped his chin, nodded brightly.

"_Fine," _he squeaked, wondering if his eyeballs were blushing yet. _Are you guys fuck-buddies now, or actually going out?_ Oh _shit, _he hadn't said that out loud, had he? No. Phew. What _exactly _did you do when you caught two people going at it in a potentially public arena? It's not like he'd walked in on them in the _bedroom. _No, they'd been dry-humping on _their stove. _Uh – that is to say, _Axel's_ stove. Receiving a general round of unusual looks, Roxas decided now would be a fine time to vacate, before he said any of the things his mind was blurting, and got ready to gather his utensils and make a run for it – when Axel's voice boomed across the hall. "Oh-_ho, _everybody's _here _then, huh?"

Roxas pretty much wanted to die. He knew, without looking, exactly the way the light would be glinting in those eyes, the twisted curve of the grin, the hint of lasciviousness that informed Roxas that, if he was ready, Axel was _ready. _He wondered if he could drown himself in the half-inch of milk still swilling about in his bowl before someone stopped him. Even if they resuscitated him, he could always blame the sleep-walking… and at least it would serve as a distraction…

A moment later, Axel was there, hanging all over him, hands brushing subtly over his chest. "And how _are _we all today? Leon? Cloud? Momma Aerith?" Roxas' eyes slid shut, teeth squeezing together in horror. Axel was _not _this chipper first thing in the morning. No. The bastard was enjoying this. Great – Roxas blurts out _one little thing _while he's faintly lust-clouded, and he's doomed for a lifetime. "Everybody get good night's sleep? Hmmm?"

Roxas could tell Cloud was getting suspicious. His eyes narrowed slightly as he took in the blond's expression, coupled with Axel's eerily happy mood. "Just fine, thank you."

"That's _gooood."_

"Speaking of sleep," Roxas cut in desperately, "we didn't get a whole heap last night, so I'm thinking bed is a good thing. Definitely. I'm tired. Roxas is sleepy."

"Well, _Axel _is hungry." The redhead grinned wickedly. He reached forward, flicked a nail against the mostly empty cereal bowl. "You got to eat already, but my tummy is _rumbly, _Roxie."

"Can I get you something?" Aerith asked generously. "I've just made some eggs, and – "

"Jesus, _no! _Nothing cooked!"

Leon stiffened slightly, exchanging the faintest flickering glance with Cloud. "He's got an upset stomach," Roxas whispered.

"What're you talking about, Roxie? I feel great! I just don't want to catch _offuck that hurt." _Elbows to injured shoulders tend to have that effect. "I mean…" He squinted sideways at the blond. "Yeah. I'm not feeling fantastic."

Cloud had paled a little, his eyes fixed on Roxas, searching for a sign of confirmation. Aerith was baffled by their behaviour, but chose to merely raise an eyebrow and ask, "Well… is there anything you'd like me to get you? For your… stomach?"

"Oh, no, that's fine," Axel assured through his teeth, beads of sweat appearing from the pain. "Roxie'll take care of me. We'll just go get me something to take back to bed. I've arranged it so we can sleep for most of the day, anyway, so we might as well get started on that."

"Sleep-walking again?" Leon asked. The blond and redhead hesitated, glanced at each other.

"Yeah," said Roxas softly. "Some bad dreams, some weird stuff… we've been up for a while. We're tired."

"You think it's getting worse?"

The blond lowered his eyes. "Hard to tell."

"We're going to get him help, though," said Axel, calm for the first time, an element of sobriety in his speech. "Aerith, I wanted to talk to you later about it."

She frowned, nodded. "Of course. Come find me, I'll be around."

He inclined his head in thanks, stood to allow Roxas to rise. When the blond wasn't looking, he winked slyly over at Leon, glancing meaningfully at Cloud, who paled far more significantly this time. Barely able to keep the evil giggles in, he slung an arm around Roxas and grabbed his bowl off the table, taking it over to drop onto the kitchen counter. He grabbed a half-filled box of cereal, yanked the bag from the cardboard and rolled it up, tucking it under his spare arm. "You really are an asshole," Roxas muttered, as they waved briefly and left the hall. Axel grinned broadly, didn't respond. "What do you think Aerith can do for me?"

The redhead shrugged, smile dying slowly. "Something. Anything? I don't know. She's just the logical kind of person to go for. I mean – she's momma Aerith." He tried for a smile from the blond, instead found himself watching what little blood had been restored to the teen's cheeks drain away at the mention of anything to do with his mother, _a _mother, any mother at all. He sighed. "Sorry."

Roxas glanced up sharply. "Forget it." They returned to Demyx's room. Roxas felt more confident this time, with the sun a little higher, the castle more awake… He listened to the click as Axel locked the door, for real this time, and tucked the key into his pants pocket. "So you got the day off?"

The redhead shrugged as he toed off his sneakers, kicking them into the corner. "Told you I would, didn't I? I'm taking the week." He grinned a little. "Let's just hope DiZ doesn't catch wind of it. I can only imagine the lecture I'd get for slacking off."

Roxas frowned. "You should keep going, then. I don't want you getting in trouble because of me. Again," he added, as an afterthought. Green eyes rolled.

"You never got me into trouble in the first place, remember?" He puffed up, fists on hips in a heroic manner, chin lifting. "That was all me, the great and mighty Innuendo-Boy!"

"Oh, jeeze." Roxas ran a hand through his hair. "Why the hell can I picture you with your underwear on the outside of your pants? Bad mental image, very bad."

"Bad like Leon and _Cloud _bad? Because I can handle you thinking of me that way." Big, wicked grin, the blond cringing and shooting over a dark look, pointing a finger.

"We're both shutting up about that. Forever."

Axel lifted his brows in a carefree way, shrugged languidly, peeled off his shirt and threw it after the shoes. Roxas stared for a moment, caught sight of the smirk and scowled. He tugged off his own shirt and shoes, went over to the bed, crawling in first so that if he decided to get up and wander without his conscious mind present, he'd have to clamber over Axel to get anywhere. Axel came over to slip in beside him, curled himself happily around the teen's half-bare body, nuzzling his nose into his spine. "Is this going to become a permanent thing?" Roxas asked sleepily, eyes already beginning to slide shut despite the flicker of anxiety winking awake in his solar plexus. "Us sharing a bed?"

Axel leaned over his shoulder, planted a kiss on his cheek. "It is if you want it to be," he replied hopefully. When there was a pause, he hastily amended, "But I totally understand if you want to keep your space. You know, personal and all that. I know you like solitude sometimes…"

Roxas yawned, shook his head. "I'm happy," he said hoarsely. "This is fine…"

Axel gazed down at him for a minute, watching the blinks growing slower. "Just make sure to kick me out if it gets too much." Roxas laughed a little.

"Oh, right, like I could do that without hurting your feelings." He shrugged. "You'll know if I don't feel like being touched. Elbows are great inventions."

The redhead snorted. "I noticed. That was bitchy. Do I poke you in your cracked ribs? No – no I don't."

"You were _being _an _ass. _They totally suspect us now."

Axel licked his shoulder. "They deserve to squirm, as far as I'm concerned." Smirking at the predictable shiver the action drew, he lay down, satisfied with himself, carefully pulling the boy closer. There was no more talking. Roxas' exhaustion reared its head, sank teeth into him, dragged him down, past the mists of dreaming, deep into the darkness beneath. Axel didn't sleep. Yet again, he spent the next several hours simply watching the blond, occasionally munching dry cereal, waiting to see what would happen, heart confused between the incredible lightness it felt whenever the boy moved, and the heaviness that hung like smoke at the thought of what might happen next.

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Some hours later, late afternoon by Axel's weary reckoning, there was a knock at the door. He closed his eyes, cursing silently, glanced over at the slumbering figure of the blond, who had yet to stir in any unnatural way. Although the time in bed had been fraught for the redhead, Roxas had been peaceful the entire way through, much to his relief. It was moments like this that made him think that maybe things just felt _worse _at night – no one likes being woken up at three in the morning by the catatonic tears of their loved one. But then, all he really had to do was picture the teen's face again, an image burnt into his retinas, to realise that no, things weren't being thrown into perspective – it was – it was _misleading_ him. This was a false calm, one which the blond's track record so far would shatter no doubt the next time, or the time after that.

Carefully, praying that whoever was on the outside wouldn't knock again and wake the teen, he pushed down the covers, swung his bare feet out onto the stone, hitched up his sagging jeans and shuffled over. He rattled the handle, realised it was still locked, hissed, _"Hang on!" _and started digging through his pockets. He retrieved the key, undid the latch, and opened the door a crack, revealing a sliver of his face. He frowned at seeing the visitor, not who he was expecting even slightly. "Yuffie? What's up? We're sleeping."

"Well, you need to wake up!" she replied cheerily, making him wince at the volume. He shook his head fiercely, stuck it out a little further.

"Roxas is _sleeping. _Don't you know how badly he needs it?"

"Oh, hell, Roxas needs a _lot _of things badly – speaking of which, have you two done the dirty yet? Oh, never mind." She stiff-armed the door, smacking the redhead in the face, making him wheel away whispering savage curses, clutching his suddenly throbbing forehead. Yuffie marched into the room. "Besides," she added, tone not altering to the dim environment, "he'd _want _me to wake him." She leapt onto the bed before Axel could stop her, bouncing it violently, startling the blond awake before sitting down sharply on his back. "Hiya, Roxas! Just like old times, huh?"

Axel grabbed her, dragged her off, snarling, "He's _injured, _you goddamn idiot! Don't fucking jump on his _back!"_

She jerked free, scowling, straightening her shirt. "No _shit, _techie – I _do _know my human anatomy. I didn't hurt him at _all_ – _did _I, Roxas?"

Wide-eyed, the teen sat up, blinking. "I – uh – no – what?" He rubbed his face. "What's going on? Did I sleep-walk again?"

"No," Axel snapped, hands on hips, hunching angrily to tower over the ninja, who was utterly unaffected by it all. "You were sleeping quietly, and _this _bitch had to come and screw it up!"

"Hey, now!" She turned on him, expression darkening. "If you're going to start calling me names, I'll leave right now, and _neither _of you is getting into Hollow Bastion."

"Hollow Bastion? Why the fuck would we want to – "

"Hollow _Bastion?" _Roxas exclaimed breathlessly, suddenly alert. He pulled up the blankets quickly. "Wait, what? We can _go?"_

"Go?" the redhead echoed in confusion. Yuffie nodded happily.

"Yep – that is, if you don't mind having me tagging along. At a distance, that is." She winked. "Aerith told me what you've got planned. You guys are way too insanely cute. One of these days, I'm going to have to gut you and stuff you, just so I can spend a few hours each week gazing upon the cuteness."

"Okay, and now I'm _scared," _Axel protested. "What's going on? Somebody, please?"

"What, you don't know?" The brunette raised an eyebrow, looked him up and down. Roxas scrambled from the bed.

"No, he doesn't! Shut up, it's a surprise!" They were both surprised, Axel more than Yuffie, to see the blond beaming. It had been… a long time, since Axel had seen him looking that bright-eyed and happy. It made his heart skip, a soft, goofy grin forming on his own features in response. "A surprise?" he asked. Roxas nodded quickly.

"Yeah, so – get dressed! Now!" He turned to Yuffie anxiously. "What time is it?"

"Marly's gonna be here in ten minutes, so move your keisters."

Excited, Roxas did as bidden, snatching his shirt as Axel held it out to him, slithering into it, jamming his feet into their respective shoes, dragging his hands through his bed-hair in an attempt to appear vaguely well-groomed, singing praises in his mind to Aerith and her wonderfulness. Studying him with amusement, Axel did the same, and within a couple of minutes, both males were ready. Yuffie sent the blond a grin, tossed her head for them to follow, and exited into the corridor. Roxas seized Axel's hand, squeezed it hard, heartbeat ragged. A fine sheen of sweat appeared across his forehead and upper lip, which he quickly swiped away, licking his lips nervously as they trailed Yuffie out to the front of the castle, down the ramp, out onto the packed dirt to where Aerith patiently waited. Her face lit up as Roxas came into view, and it was all the blond could do to not go racing over and hug her tightly in thanks.

Axel scratched his head, feeling a little dazed from lack of sleep and the blinding quality of Roxas' smiles, not sure what the hell was going on, but willing to go along with it as long as the teen kept gripping his hand like that. He was kind of – side-swiped by this sudden display of enthusiasm. He couldn't remember the last time he'd seen Roxas like that. Probably – no, _definitely, _long before he left Twilight Town. Axel had never had it – right in front of him this way. Right where he could see it, and touch it, and bask in it, and… Giddy. Yes, Axel was feeling giddy from the intensity, the sheer, unadulterated pleasure of it all. The blond may as well have slapped him several times around the face, his head was ringing in the exact same way.

Some small talk was made in the minutes waiting for Aerith's ride, but generally it was stilted by the need to skirt around the purpose of their involvement in the trip. Yuffie was standing to one side, rubbing a small cloth over the edges of her Wutai weapon of choice, distracting Axel from time to time, making him frown. At last, the large white florist's van arrived, and the redhead sucked in a breath. "Oh, man – Marly as in, super-ass-perv?"

"_Axel," _Aerith hissed through her teeth. "Don't you embarrass me in front of Marluxia, or so help me, I will tell DiZ to put you on kitchen duty for a month, _and _clean the bathrooms _again, _and you _know _he'll do it." Eyebrows rising, Axel mimed zipping his lips together. She squinted at him. "And I _intend _to find out what's so wrong about the stove that you two won't eat from it. Don't think I didn't notice that this morning."

Roxas glared as the redhead started chuckling. Yuffie came over, suspicious. "Hey, what's _wrong _with the stove? What'd you do to it?"

"Oh, we didn't do _anything," _Axel leered. "The opportunity was stolen from us."

"Shut. Up," Roxas commanded, momentarily forgetting his happiness. Chagrined by its loss, Axel nodded obediently. The pink-haired man was climbing from his vehicle, smiling broadly as Aerith went to meet him. The woman was flushed and cheerful despite her assurances it wasn't a date, making Axel screw up his face. As the man caught sight of the redhead, he faltered slightly, recognition entering his expression for a brief moment. Something sly slid through it. "You three can ride in the back. Nice to see you looking a little better, Roxas."

"Thanks," the blond mumbled. As Aerith and Marluxia hopped into the front two seats, Yuffie slid aside the long door to the cabin of the van and ushered the two males in. As she joined them, the motor rumbling to life to dull their conversation to the ears of the driver and passenger, she murmured, "Okay, is it me, or did he totally just get creepy on Axel?"

The man threw his hands up. "See? I told you! He's all – gross!"

She regarded him sceptically. "You didn't _do_ anything with him, did you?"

Axel nearly inhaled his tongue in objection. "God, _no. _Seriously – even back in the day, I had some _decorum." _

"He's not _that _bad, is he?" Roxas asked doubtfully. "I mean, should we be worried for Aerith?"

Yuffie snorted. "Please. The man is more gay than _you _two, and you're like the 'it' couple of the castle."

Axel brightened. "We're the 'it' couple?"

"Luxord's trying to get bets going for when you guys finally have sex. Larxene reckons she'll be able to tell just by _looking _at Roxas."

The blond turned a steady shade of crimson, while Axel, panicking at the realisation that this was something that would no doubt hinder their physical progress further, blurted, "Leon and Cloud had sex on Aerith's stove!"

Yuffie stared.

"They _what?!"_

"A little too loud there," Roxas moaned, covering his eyes as Aerith spun, jaw dropping, eyes impossibly wide.

"That's why? _That's _why you wouldn't eat anything I cooked?"

Yuffie punched Axel in the uninjured shoulder hard, a stunned look in place. "Don't be lying, now. If you're lying, I'll kill you while you're sleeping. Now, think _very carefully – _did you actually _see _this, or are you _making shit up?"_

"Oh, no, we saw it," the redhead reported merrily. "Both of us – isn't that right, Roxie?" He threw an arm around the blond, tugged his mortified face into his shoulder and patted the flaxen spikes comfortingly. Yuffie transferred her shocked gaze to Roxas, taking in the ruby blush of his cheeks and throat. She twisted to meet Aerith's eyes, the pair of them beyond startled. Then, almost by telepathic agreement, they started squealing, threw their arms around each other in delight. _"Wait til I tell Tifa!" _the ninja crowed.

Aerith bounced in her seat, shoved the girl away, demanded, "Did they at least clean it afterward?"

Axel stared in disbelief. "Uh – I don't know? They weren't like, full-_on _doing it, they just – "

"Oh, no, don't tell me they were just arm-wrestling or something?" Yuffie asked, horrified. Roxas shook his head wildly.

"They were doing it dry," he exclaimed, before clapping his hands over his mouth. The two woman burst into fresh peals of joy.

"I _knew _it!" the ninja declared, punching the air. "I _knew _those two were hot for each other!"

"I wonder if it was the shoes that did it," Aerith said excitedly. The females started chatting animatedly, hands twisting through the air, comparing moments that they'd intruded on some deeper undertone between the new couple, and Axel and Roxas looked at each other.

"Okay, I'm starting to feel mean," the redhead said. Roxas nodded. Marluxia simply kept on driving, bemused, eyes touching on Axel every now and then with a smirk.


	36. Chapter 36

**A/N: **Happy New Year, everyone:D Well, almost. Tomorrow. I've been fanficcing for what, two and a half months now? TU's two-month anniversary is on the ninth, so yeah, roughly. Very cool :) I hope everyone over-age goes out and sees the new year in with style, and everyone underage goes out and sees it in with non-alcoholic style, coz I figure I was a bad enough influence during the poker night chapters (underage, as far as I'm concerned, being below eighteen)… And, with my last idiotic rant of 2007 out of the way, I guess the next time we meet it'll be next year :D Have fun, everyone!

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CHAPTER THIRTY-SIX

As they climbed out of the van, behind the florist's shop in Hollow Bastion, Axel sent Yuffie a squinting look. "And what are you doing here, again?"

She brought up her shurikan with a toothy grin. "Providing cavalry if some long-haired psycho-killer shows up."

Roxas, still clutching the redhead's hand tightly, gave it a squeeze, glaring at her a little. "But you'll be following at a distance, right?" he asked, worrying that the entire evening would be ruined by the continuous babble of excited conversation and demands to know if it was _really, really true _about Leon and Cloud. However, the ninja rolled her eyes. "Yes, Roxas, it'll be at a distance. There's no point trying to perv on the cuteness if you guys are too uptight to _do _anything in front of me."

Axel raised an eyebrow, turned to the blond. "And what, pray tell, are we even planning on doing?"

Roxas slipped into smugness. "You'll find out." Interest sparked in the redhead's eyes, a smirk forming.

"Oh, Roxie, when you say it like that, I barely know how I can _wait."_

Marluxia and Aerith exited the vehicle, the man locking it up and beaming, offering his arm to her. His eyes locked on Axel, he said, "Well, I hope you two have an enjoyable evening. It was pleasant seeing you again… Roxas…"

The blond scowled, as Axel gazed coolly back. Yuffie made a face, Aerith's eyes narrowing slightly. "Take care," she said, looking at each of them in turn. "Yuffie, remember to have them back in time."

The girl saluted with her weapon. "Yes, ma'am, momma Aerith. These love-bitten little birds'll be back before you know it!"

"Not too soon, I hope," Axel muttered, fixing the pink-haired man with a squinting look. He shot Aerith a warning glance as she left, making her frown slightly, no doubt stealing some of the fun from what was meant to be _her _evening away from the castle and its many 'children'. But if it put her on her guard, it was worth it.

As they disappeared around the corner of the building, Roxas released his hand, turned with arms folded, eyebrows raised, and demanded, "Okay, _what _happened between you two? I'm seriously getting worried for Aerith."

Yuffie snorted. "Hey, kid, don't you worry about Aerith. She's not some helpless little pink-wearing plant-picking wuss – if that guy tries _anything, _he won't know what hit him when she gets going."

"Do you think he's _likely_ to try anything?" he asked concernedly of Axel. The redhead shook his head.

"Naw, you guys are blowing this way out of proportion. The guy's a creep in the bars, kind of likes to go for the younger ones, but he's not a _total _freak. It's not like he spikes drinks and has his way with people. He's just…" He rolled a shoulder. "…got a reputation?" He shrugged. "Like Yuffie said, Aerith's no pushover. I just don't want him to grope her or anything gross." He grinned a little. "Anyone who messes with Aerith, finds themselves on the receiving end of the entire castle's wrath. Up to and including DiZ. She's going to be fine." He grabbed the diminutive blond in a one-armed hug. "Besides, _I'm _more interested in what's happening with _us, _Roxie. What've you got planned?"

Roxas hesitated, glanced over at Yuffie. She smiled. "Ah, I think I'm going to go do some window shopping, okay, guys? Don't worry if you don't see me around – I'll make sure you're safe. Be back in a couple hours, or else."

They nodded, watched as she sauntered off into the market district. Once she had disappeared from view, Axel dropped a kiss onto the sweep of Roxas' cheekbone. "Okay, so madam gay-perv is gone now – what's up? What're we doing in Hollow Bastion so very suddenly? I'm pretty sure that half an hour ago you were sleeping peacefully for once, so what's so important that it makes it okay for that crazy Committee chick to leap all over you and wake you up?"

Roxas glanced away, fidgeting slightly, overcome with a shade of nervousness. "Well – I mean, look around, Axel." He glanced up at the sky, the man frowning for a moment before following his gaze. He inhaled deeply, hearing the sounds of traffic, of footsteps, of little bells ringing to announce customers into stores. It was – Hollow Bastion. He glanced sideways. "So, uh… what am I looking at?" Roxas sighed, punched his arm.

"Idiot. It's nearly sunset, isn't it? So where's the nearest goddamn rooftop? There's got to be _somewhere _we can watch the clouds and stuff, right?"

For a long moment, Axel just stared, a faintly perplexed expression in place. Roxas met his gaze tentatively, forced himself to not look away, a twist of apprehension interrupting the many butterflies fluttering around his insides. What if he didn't remember? Or care? What if Roxas had taken away what little sleep the man had been getting to bring him out for nothing?

Then realisation dawned, slowly, across the fair features. Green eyes widened, focusing with new understanding upon the blue. His lips parted, eyebrows lowering. "You – remembered?"

Roxas smiled hesitantly. "Yes? I just – I promised, right? I thought maybe this was as good a time as any… We're both okay for once, well… sort of… and I just, I just wondered if maybe you'd think that – " His semi-anxious dribbling was cut off by Axel's lips pressing firmly against his own, making him blink as he tried to continue, muffled, giving up a moment later and relaxing into the man's grip. He smiled a little, arms reaching up to wind around the redhead's neck, feeling an intensity radiating from Axel that for a while now had been absent, in the light of their various physical and mental problems. It reminded him all over again of the years Axel had spent waiting for him to come out of the Twilight Town system. It reminded him of the obsession, and after seeing that Marluxia guy sizing the redhead up like a potential slab of meat, nothing made him happier than knowing that every ounce of that fixation was directed _his _way. There was no one else, not anymore – there never had been to begin with.

The heated kiss broke, Axel gasping in the blond's exhalations, fingers digging into his back. Hoarsely, he said, "I can't believe you remembered. All that time… We're – you brought us here to watch the sunset?" Shyly, Roxas nodded, and found himself swept up again in Axel's mouth, feeling it against his own, against his cheeks, his eyelids. "You're so beautiful," the redhead whispered, planting one last, gentle kiss into his hair. "Everything about you. I can't believe…" He shook his head, drew back almost roughly, eyes burning into Roxas'. He squeezed the teen's biceps, hard enough to hurt, then shifted his hands up to his face, sweeping his thumbs across the golden eyebrows. There was a deep frown in place as he said, "You're actually here. In Hollow Bastion. After all this time…"

Roxas rolled his eyes a little to fight the blush rising on his cheeks. "So, are we going to stand here with you realising that I'm actually here while the sun goes down, or are we going to find a roof to watch it from?"

Axel smiled, dropped his hands. "I know a good place."

Fingers twining together, the pair set off, Roxas following faithfully, feeling no fear, no tiredness, no depression, just – just light, like someone had carved him out of clay, and finally whittled him down to the right size. There were no great weights on his shoulders, no blocks tied to his feet. Each step was easy, each breath complete, each heartbeat calm despite the way it throbbed with pleasant nerves through his pulse points. Being here with Axel, in the dimming sunlight, with the people all around despite the fact that it was after five now, something he'd never experienced in Twilight Town… he felt _happy. _It was as though, despite all their misfortune and shortcomings, Roxas was finally settling in, realising that any version of reality was better than a dully pleasant version of _non-_reality. This was home now. This was where he _belonged. _He couldn't imagine trying to be anywhere else – not even out of Hollow Bastion. The desire to go travel the world was fading. He still thought he'd like to see some places, names he'd heard in passing conversation, but he knew now that he'd always return to the castle, to where Twilight Town resided and Axel was most comfortable. Right now, looking over at the man, seeing the shine of delight slowly entering his expression the more the idea sank in of what they were doing here, there was nothing more that he wanted than for Axel to be happy. He deserved it more than anyone.

After about fifteen minutes of twisting and turning through the cobbled streets, slipping between groups and couples, they arrived at Axel's destination. They had left the heart of the market district by now, had headed into the crumbling edges between the broken down section bordering the war-torn areas and the rebuilt parts. The building they stood before was tall, slightly bowed, one section of the foundations sinking. No doubt, in a year or two, if it wasn't renovated it would fall apart – it was already halfway there. Roxas eyed it dubiously. "Another place we used to go?"

Axel chuckled. "No, I don't think _you've _ever been here. I have, though. Used to be a club, before the foundations crunched like that." He sighed. "It really was an idiotic place to have one – nearly crushed a bunch of people in the basement." He flashed a smile at the blond, teeth glinting in the golden light. "Fortunately, a night I'd chosen not to attend."

"Good," Roxas said darkly. He glared at the edifice, a symbol of the years of Axel's confusion and torment as far as he was concerned. "So why are _we _here?"

Axel craned his neck, head tipping back. "The fire escape leads all the way up. It's high and secluded." He looked over at the teen. "I figured it was as good a place as any, but, uh, you're not looking entirely thrilled. We can find somewhere else, if you're not happy with it."

Reluctantly, Roxas shook his head. "No, it's fine. It'll do."

"Jeeze, tone down the enthusiasm, Rox, you're gonna give me an aneurism."

The blond scowled. "How the hell are we meant to get up without killing ourselves in the process? And speaking of our untimely deaths, where's Yuffie?" They each glanced around, scanning the surroundings, finding themselves utterly alone. "Some cavalry _she _is," he mumbled. Axel grinned.

"Maybe she's buying something naughty for Leon and Cloud, to celebrate their new relationship. God knows they don't do anything halfway."

Roxas sighed, smacked his healthy shoulder. "Come on, then. We're missing the sunset." Axel hesitated, eyes on the blond, before nodding. He led the way around to the back of the building, through a narrow alley filled with junk and debris. They clambered over the fragments of rock and cement, feet slipping on the many tiles, clanging across a stray piece of guttering. Roxas hissed as something stabbed into his leg sharply. He took several staggering steps, found some level ground and bent to inspect his jeans.

"Rox?" He glanced up, saw Axel had climbed up onto a garbage can, had a hand on the rusted ladder leading to the fire escape.

"I'm coming," he grunted, wiping the sweat away and clambering over and up as Axel started ascending. The metal shuddered and shivered under the man's weight, Roxas balancing on the dustbin as he dubiously waited to see if Axel would make it up before the entire thing chose to simply crumble out from beneath him. He made it to the narrow staircase, looping his long legs over the rail one after the other. The exertion on his injured shoulder had to have been painful, but he made no complaints, turning to grin at the blond. "Hello, down there," he said, elbows leaning against the rail. "Coming up?"

Roxas sighed uncertainly, wrapped his hands around the rough, cold bars, thin and frail-looking with so many pounds to hold. But if it hadn't gone down with Axel…

He climbed, muscles awakening for the first time in days, aches and pains remembering themselves and starting conversations down near the bone, sweat slick against his palms, making them slide along the metal. He hated the way the ladder shook each time he heaved himself up to the next rung. But then something warm touched his knuckles. Glancing up, he saw Axel smiling down at him, holding out a hand to help him the last of the way. He hesitated, pride insisting that he was fine, he didn't need help at all – but then, wasn't it he who had brought Axel out here to begin with? He knew the sorts of thrills the redhead got from the little things like this, just small gestures that proved he was present, ready to do almost anything for Roxas' further comfort and contentment. _He _was the one who'd thought this would be something nice for them – something normal, and – and _couple-y. _So, damn it, stop acting like a kid with issues, and start acting like – like a _boyfriend. _That's what they were, what they'd called each other that morning – there really wasn't any point in him trying to deny it, or wonder about it. No other term sprung to mind, or felt so natural.

Roxas unpeeled his cold hands from the ladder, grasped Axel's fingers, felt the security of knowing that Axel was right _there. _He wouldn't let the blond fall, or even slip. "Be careful of your ribs," he warned, as Roxas stretched a leg out. Axel's other hand clamped his thigh, holding him steady, and together they swung him over onto more solid footing. Axel looked pleased with himself, a little glow setting up behind his face. "Watch yourself," he said, as they started off up the rickety steps. Roxas nodded, following his steps closely, mounting higher and higher along the weak building. It occurred to him that this was likely to be one of the more fragile parts of the structure, but since so far nothing had shattered out from under them, he could only hope that the rest of it was as trustworthy, despite appearances.

One last ladder met them near the top, taking them over the edge onto the broad, flat roof of the building. Roxas hauled himself over, head throbbing slightly, breathing hard. His stamina had been obliterated by the hospital stay, the recent events sapping his strength. His thoughts swam through a slight fog, a lightness seizing the top of his skull. But then the hands were there again, the arms, and he fell into them, clutching handfuls of Axel's sweater as they panted and recovered. He noticed the redhead hissing through his teeth, looked up in concern. "Are you okay?"

"I'm good," he grunted. "Just hurts. I'll take something when we get back."

Roxas dimmed. "I'm sorry. I didn't even think of that."

Axel shook his head, sending down an affectionate look. "Believe me, Rox, pain I can handle. It's really nothing new. I would give almost _anything _to be up here with you right now." Roxas smiled, looked sideways from their perch on the edge of it all to gaze out at the horizon.

"Well, we're kind of late," he said regretfully. "Look." The sun had dipped, still showing but not far from disappearing. The sky had lost its golden-amber gleam, fading into deeper shades of blue and purple, streaked with touched of pink. "It's not like it was on Sunset Hill."

"Yeah, but Rox, it's _called _Sunset Hill for a reason," Axel pointed out. "It has the best view for the longest time. Hollow Bastion sunsets are quicker."

"Why?" Roxas asked, momentarily frustrated by the anomaly. "Why not make it identical?"

Axel shrugged, Roxas feeling the motion along his arms. "It's modelled after the _real _Twilight Town." In response to Roxas' shocked look, he added, "DiZ grew up there, decided it was a good place to send a bunch of orphans, and made the simulation to mimic it." He smiled. "And for once, the old freak was right. You had a good life there. You grew up good."

Frowning slightly, Roxas rested his face against the man's chest. "I'd have preferred being here with you."

"No, you wouldn't, Roxie," he replied quietly. "Life here wasn't great for a very long time. I, for one, am glad you were there for the bad stuff… even if it meant me being lonely for a while." He kept the smile in place, but it saddened as he spoke, as if that sensation was never far off, even with the blond right where he wanted him. Roxas drew back slightly, studying his face. As if embarrassed by the admission, the man turned his head to the side, squinting off into the distance, avoiding the blue gaze. Roxas tugged his sleeves gently. "Come on. There's still a few minutes left. Let's watch the clouds."

Axel snorted slightly. "Suddenly, I feel like a little kid." Nevertheless, he allowed himself to be led over to the edge closest to the sun. Roxas lowered first, fearlessly seating himself on the stone with his legs hanging over the edge. He glanced up at Axel's hesitation. "You should be careful," the man said nervously. "That's, uh, quite a drop there, Roxie."

"Psh," Roxas said dismissively, waving a hand through the air. "Just get me some sea-salt ice-cream, and I'm back on the clock-tower. No big deal."

Axel joined him, more cautious in the real world than he had been in Twilight Town. "You know, we could get you some sea-salt ice-cream," he offered. "We could get Vaan to import a couple crates or something. There's a couple of deep freezers back at the castle that'd hold it."

"From the real Twilight Town?" the blond asked curiously, hands pressing against the edge, feet kicking absently. At Axel's nod, he frowned a little. "I think… I'd like to see it. The real one. It'd be… interesting."

Axel watched him warily. "Your friends aren't going to be there, if that's what you're hoping. They're stuck in the simulation, which is only _based _on the real Twilight Town."

Roxas shrugged. "I know that. It'd still be worth doing, though. We could sit on the clock tower for _real."_

Amused, the redhead asked, "And do what?"  
Roxas turned a little, winked, sticking out his tongue. "Whatever you want."

Axel's eyes widened, eyebrows shooting high, the corners of his mouth twitching up. Disbelieving, he said, "Oh, really? Watch yourself, Roxie – I might just have to keep that in mind. We'll see how willing you are to do _whatever I want _when we get there."

"Ah, but we have to_ get there _first, don't we?" the blond pointed out smugly. Green eyes narrowed, a smirk in place.

"Touché. Perhaps that's a trip I'll just have to find a way for us to go on. You've aroused my curiosity, among other things."

Roxas rolled his eyes, bumped the man's shoulder with his head. "Everything's about arousals with you, isn't it?"

"When _you're _in the vicinity? Uh, _yeah." _

The blond sighed, shaking his head, a smile in place as Axel shifted closer, curling an arm around his waist. He leaned easily onto his shoulder, inhaling a deep, contented breath. His eyes slid shut, ignoring the sight he'd brought them both up here to see, concentrating only on the feeling that swirled at this contact, this beautiful quiet time between just the two of them. Axel lowered his mouth to the blond's ear, murmuring, "This was a nice idea – thanks." Roxas swivelled his head, met his lips. He shifted closer to the redhead, was engulfed in the warmth of his arms. He breathed in Axel's scent, smiling, hands winding around the back of his head, fingers threading through the blazing hair. He drew back, replied, "You're welcome, but we're still missing it."

"Do I look like I care?" came the muttered response. For several sweet minutes, there was just a mindless, peaceful meeting of mouths, fingers brushing skin, shivering at the combination of the world's chill and their personal heat. Satisfaction welled within Roxas, numbing him to any and all concerns, retrieving his mind from its anxious parlours in the various far-flung sections of his head and drawing them all into being here, right now, with Axel. If it hadn't been for the redhead, none of this would have even been possible. He couldn't think of anyone else, even Naminé despite Axel's paranoia, who would have wanted to bring him out of the system. He would have been trapped forever, in an open-air box, never knowing what life _could _be.

They parted, lips shining, faces warm. Roxas nuzzled into the redhead's chest. "Axel?" The man hummed sleepily in response, fingertips massaging Roxas' scalp. "I just realised something."

"Oh?"

"I never – thanked you. For getting me out. You – you did everything for me, you've had to put up with so much bullshit – "

The massage paused. "Roxas…"

"Let me finish," the blond said sharply. "You've put up with so much because of me, and you've never complained, or pushed me or _anything, _and God only knows you've had the grounds to, countlesstimes. And I just realised, I never thanked you, not once.You _saved _me, Axel…"

Axel sighed. "Roxas, you _know _why I did it all. It's not like I was being totally selfless."

Roxas drew in a breath through his nose, fingers tightening momentarily on the material of his sweater. "You did it because you love me, right?"

"Right."

The fluttering increased in his belly, the knowledge a glorious sledgehammer to his head, the soft smile breaking out without him even knowing. "Well, congratulations," he said softly. "It's all paid off. I love you, too."

Axel blinked, Roxas feeling his posture stiffen, the smile growing larger against the man's chest. "Was that – did you just…?" Axel squeezed his eyes shut, shook his head to clear it. "I'm sleeping," he muttered. "Fuck. But damned if that wasn't the weirdest love-confession I've ever dreamed." He glared down at the blond. "Usually, it's a lot more dramatic. We'd be having sex by now. Why's this one so different?"

Torn between amusement and uncertainty, Roxas replied, "Because things never work out in non-reality like they do in your head?"

Axel stared. "Roxas – am I sleeping, or awake? I don't even know right now."

A half-smile hovered over Roxas' lips. "What do you think?"

Axel's brow creased, mouth angling down as he flicked his gaze from one of the blue eyes to the next, assessing the sincerity within each, searching for signs of – confirmation? Verity? Mockery? Why didn't he look – happy?

"Roxas, are you fucking with me?" he demanded at last. Roxas was stunned – this wasn't the reaction he'd anticipated. His stomach dropped at the severity of Axel's tone, sounding injured as he drew away, twisting on the parapet, replying, _"No, _I'm not _fucking _with you. I said it because I meant it, because I _feel _it, for God's sake!"

"No," Axel replied quietly. Roxas was incredulous.

"No?" he echoed, disbelievingly. "What the hell do you mean, _no?"_

The redhead looked out over darkening Hollow Bastion, cold winds blowing in from the mountains, streetlights blinking on one by one. "I mean," he explained calmly, "that you're not in love with me. That's not how it works. I spend my life loving you, and you spend yours always – just that little bit out of reach." He looked flatly at the blond. "I don't believe you."

He was startled as Roxas' abused knuckles collided with the cement, anger and frustration screwing his features together. "Damn it, Axel, _why _the hell does everything have to be _complicated?" _The last word was a shout, breaths coming shallowly, chest being stabbed by hurt and helplessness. He grabbed Axel's head, shook him so that he swayed. "I'm not on the other side of reality anymore, I'm _right here. _If you never believed I'd love you back, why the fuck did you even _bother?" _Axel didn't respond, didn't look at him. Eyebrows drawing together, Roxas gently released him. "This is – _ridiculous. _Can't you see that? I brought you here so we could be just – _together _for a while, and – and _tell _you. Because this… this isn't something I've just _decided, _Axel. It's not something I just _felt_ like saying." When Axel showed no sign of acknowledgement, he punched his arm. "Are you even _listening?" _

Axel snorted, drew his knees up, hugging them. "I hear you."

"So why aren't you saying anything?" Roxas asked, distressed. "Do you think I'm just making this up? _Look _at me, _please. _I'm so fucking _serious _right now, Axel. After everything that's been going wrong lately, _please _don't add us to the list!"

Some element of the desperation in his voice must have entered whatever fog Axel had drawn around himself, because for the first time since this had become an argument, the green eyes darted over. There was a hardness to them that Roxas recognised as a shield, hiding away the deeper thoughts and emotions. It was just like when he'd been told about Axel's promiscuity by the assholes in town, when he'd spat the name 'nobody' at Roxas and then run. That same bone-deep terror covered up by darkness and anger.

"What would you do," Roxas asked, voice tight and jerky, "if you woke up tomorrow and I was gone?"

Axel met his gaze for a long moment. "…Is that something I'm likely to have to experience?"

"I want to know if you'd even care," Roxas said sharply. "Because for all your wonderful declarations all this time, you're sure as hell not acting like you love me right now. Would you even give a shit if I was gone tomorrow?"

Irritation flashed through his expression. "Of course I'd care. I _love _you. It's _you _that wouldn't _care."_

"_You fucking bitch," _the blond hissed through his teeth. "How dare you tell me I wouldn't _care _if you were _gone. _I _love _you, you stupid jerk, but if you're too fucking caught up in your precious emotional issues to even _see _it when it's right in front of your _face – " _He lowered his head as he stood, keeping his eyes locked on Axel's, which seemed duller than ever. " – if thirteen years of _obsession _is more important to you than what we have right here and now, with me actually close enough to _touch_ for once in you're life, then _fuck. You. _I'll go somewhere else until you figure out what the _fuck _you want, and you'll be _lucky _if at the end of it I even bother _looking _at you." He repressed the urge to start smacking the redhead, an instinctive desire to express the depth of his rage in that moment, instead turning, straightening, and stalking away. It was only when he was halfway across the roof that the tears came, now that he didn't have to look at the blankness, now that the pain had its opportunity to rise up. His vision blurred in an instant, shoulders hunching over as he began to sob. He didn't even – didn't even _want _to – he was furious with himself for it – but they wrenched from his chest, one after another, until he could barely walk straight, could barely even… hold himself up. He reached the ladder, lowered to his knees, crying hard. This was the final straw. It was too much. He couldn't _handle _this. As he touched the first rung, preparing to descend, a pair of hands suddenly seized him, yanking him back with a gasp. He hadn't heard Axel's footsteps as he ran the short distance to grab Roxas before he could disappear, but the panic in the man's face as he was spun around said enough. Roxas shoved him away, followed his staggering and punched him in the chest, right above the heart. "You fucking _ass. _I _hate _you!"

"No, you don't," Axel said in a rush, snatching his fists as they came in for a second attack, "you love me. Don't you? You _do. _There's no way you'd get this upset otherwise. I'm sorry. I didn't mean to make you cry."

"Well you _did," _Roxas snarled, "and now I look like an idiot, and my _nose _is running, and my _eyes _are stinging, and my _fucking fist _is hurting from where I punched the fucking _concrete. _Why couldn't you have just believed me at the _start? Before _I got this fucked up?" Axel didn't reply, located the scraped-bloody knuckles, the same ones that had rammed the wall just the night before, and kissed them, one by one.

"I'm sorry, I'm sorry, Rox, I'm so sorry," he muttered, between each lip-staining kiss. Roxas watched him for a few moments, sniffing, head throbbing, blinking away the salt-water. "Why can't things ever just be _easy?" _he wondered brokenly. Axel looked up, eyes soft again now, the masks all pulled away, regret and fear inside them.

"They will be. From now on, I swear it, Rox, they will. I won't be a bitch, I won't cling to the past, I – you're here _now." _He released his hands, took hold of his face, brought him close. "I'm sorry," he breathed. "I'm sorry for being stupid. I didn't mean to not believe you, I just – I got _scared – _this never _happens _in reality, it's always only been in my _head, _it just doesn't feel _real."_

"It _is," _Roxas snapped. "And that means you have to come up with a _real _response, not some bullshit fantasy crap where we end up having sex five seconds after I declare my undying-fucking-love for you."

Axel hitched in a breath, a crooked, desperate smile appearing, head tilting to the side as he stepped his lower body back, upper body leaning forward. "No sex?" Roxas gave him an unimpressed look.

"Axel. I love you." The words were flat, with an edge, his eyes watchful. Axel took a deep breath, brought up one palm and smeared away the moisture from his face. He leaned down and pressed his lips firmly against Roxas'. The blond tasted his own knuckles, the coppery tang filling his mouth as Axel's tongue entered. The redhead's blunt nails dug into the sides of his neck, as a moment later he pulled back. "I love you, too. I do. You _know _I do."

"And now, you know that _I _do," Roxas said, still warily eyeing him. He wanted to _see _the agreement, wanted to _know _that Axel understood. The man couldn't help the small hesitation that occurred, but when Roxas' eyes narrowed, he nodded.

"Yes. I do. You – you love me, right?" He laughed a little, shrilly. "You do?"

Roxas sighed, the pain around his heart subsiding. He reached out, propping his wrists on Axel's shoulders. "I'm not promising a wedding gown anytime soon, in white _or _blue to match my eyes, but _yes, _Axel, I do. And this is _not _a dream, due to the lack of aforementioned _sex."_

Axel returned to himself a little, saying ruefully, "That's true. All my dreams with you involve sex in one way or another, so this _must _be real."

Roxas shook his head wearily. "What a crazy way to say 'I love you'. I feel like I've just walked through a storm."

Axel wrapped himself more securely around the blond, smiling genuinely for the first time, relaxing slightly. "Well, this is a pretty stormy little affair we've got going, right?"

"Oh, so it's an affair now? And here I thought I was your _boyfriend."_

Axel's hand came up to cup the back of his skull, drawing their foreheads to bump together. "You are. You're mine now, no matter what. And I'm yours, and, well, nothing else matters." A finger came up to brush a stray tear that clung to Roxas' eyelashes. "I'm sorry for making you cry."

Roxas closed his eyes, nodded, said hoarsely, "It's okay. Just – don't do it again. Christ, I don't think I could handle this twice."

"Good thing there's only one first time for saying it, then, right?"

Roxas laughed shortly. "I don't know, I might like the opportunity to try this a second time, get it right maybe."

Axel shook his head. "No. You did it perfectly. All romantic and stuff. It was me that screwed it up."

Roxas wrapped his arms under Axel's, held him close, exhausted all of a sudden. It was all so draining, but it was night now – he didn't want to have to sleep through the night, and suffer whatever his brain felt like throwing at them. Not after this – they needed some peace so badly. He lifted his chin, kissing the corner of Axel's mouth. "So, what now?"

Axel nestled his cheek against Roxas' hair, feeling the soft brush on his skin, eyes slipping shut. "We disappear?"

"To where?"

"Hmm." His hand came up to stroke the teen's face. "How does anywhere sound to you?"

A short, snuff of a laugh. "I can deal with that. Anywhere sounds pretty good."

Axel smiled. "Well, we're there already. Yay. I love short trips."

Roxas chuckled weakly, burying his face into the warm safety of Axel's neck. It was a long time before they moved again, except to sway gently from side to side in a slow, silent waltz.

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Yuffie was waiting back at the florist's, leaning carelessly against the van, inspecting her nails. She glanced over, squinting slightly at Axel, but smiled as they approached. "Well, well, if it isn't the lovebirds back from their expedition. Have fun, boys?"

Axel was bent sideways, head touching Roxas' as they walked. Their arms were intertwined, bodies touching, looking more content than the ninja could remember from either of them. Whatever hardness that was in her eyes when she looked at the redhead melted away, her expression growing softer. Axel lifted an eyebrow at her, smirking. "We did, and we didn't even get attacked by crazy sword-wielding maniacs, which is lucky since you were _nowhere _to be seen, thank you so kindly."

She shrugged smugly. "You think what you want, techie, fact of the matter is, you didn't get attacked, did you? So then, everybody's happy."

Drawing Roxas into his arms, Axel flopped against the side of the vehicle, touching his chin to the boy's head. "Did we get the timing okay?"

She rolled her eyes, pushing some hair from her eyes. "Do you _see _Aerith tapping her foot? She's not back yet. She won't be long, then we can ride back up with mister gross."

"He better not have touched her," Roxas growled, muffled by Axel's sweater. Axel laughed.

"Relax, Rox, he's a guys-only type. Aerith's got her sights on the wrong dude if she's hoping to set up a flower shop filled with the patter of little feet with _him."_

"She should've stuck with Zack," the blond mumbled. "He was nice."

Yuffie scowled. "He was Zanarkand. I'd rather see Aerith with mister gross."

"And would you rather see Leon with mister gross as well?" Axel asked pointedly. "I mean, I'm not gonna throw my hands up in joy that Cloud's a soldier, but who cares, really? He's the same guy. He obviously didn't like it where he was – better to go AWOL than continue til he's discharged, right? That's what I'd do."

"Well, whoopdie-do for you," the girl said testily. "You don't even know the full story, so shut your trap."

Roxas groaned. "Are you going to be pissy with him for the rest of your lives? A little while ago, you were excited that he and Leon were together – what's changed since then?"

She sulked. "Shut up. I don't have to answer to you. I'll form my own opinions, thank you very much."

"Well, don't make them dumb opinions, okay?" Axel said wryly. "I think we could all do with a holiday from the tension."

Roxas grunted in heartfelt agreement, tightening his grip on the man. Axel sighed, stroking his hair soothingly. A few minutes of silence passed, Yuffie brooding away, the two males fending off the sucking tiredness tugging at their eyes, luxuriating in this peaceful respite. At last, Aerith's upbeat voice drifted into hearing, growing steadily clearer. She appeared on the arm of Marluxia, looking as unruffled and happy as ever, chattering away as the man nodded and smiled. Again, as he spotted Axel, the pleasantness of his expression was oiled by something close to a leer, this time encompassing Roxas as well. The redhead glared, hugging Roxas closer. Aerith let go of his arm and floated over. "How did everything go?"

"Great, Aerith," Roxas smiled, twisting in Axel's arms. "Thanks."

She waved him away with a gentle look. "Don't mention it." She smoothed her skirt, looking at each of them brightly, looking for all the world like she'd had fun for once that didn't include laundry, cooking, or playing peace-maker. "So, shall we go home, everyone?"

Yuffie pushed off the side of the van. "Please. I need to raid Luxord's bar."

"And me and Roxie need to eat," Axel complained. "It's been way too long since breakfast."

"Just nothing cooked, right?" the pink-clad woman said with an uncustomary smirk. She shook her head with a sigh. "I'll bring out the bleach in the morning."

They all piled into the van, back into their same seats, and within minutes were travelling back up towards the castle. Roxas looked out at the darkness with apprehension. It seemed like only a heartbeat had passed since he'd been blessed with the morning to sleep through, but rather than feeling refreshed by the day's slumber, his body, reminded of what a good sleep could be, only craved more. Roxas wondered how on earth he'd be able to last the entire night through. It stretched before him, long and foreboding.

Axel, watching him, seeing the anxiety begin to draw lines through his skin, nudged him with a thumb. "Forgot to tell you," he murmured. "I've got you working a shift with Sora tonight. He was there when I went to switch the roster around, asked if I could send you along for a few hours to help with Twilight Town. I figured it was a good way to keep you alert for a while."

Roxas was relieved, smiled a little, before frowning. "What help could _I _give?" The redhead shrugged.

"Who cares, as long as it keeps you busy?" He smiled worriedly, tracing a finger down the blond's face, making his eyes slip shut at the sensation. "While you're working, I'll see what I can do about getting you someone to talk to – someone who can actually _help."_

Roxas nodded sleepily. "Sounds good," he whispered, lost in the brush of skin on skin. Axel paused, cupped his chin, leaned down to claim a gentle peck from his lips. "Everything's looking up now, I promise."

They rumbled the rest of the way up the mountain, towards home.


	37. Chapter 37

**A/N: **People! Jeeze, how long has it been since we last met? Since, like, last year:P I'm speeding up again now that the boring stuff is over – wasn't _that _a slow death – so yeah, this is posted much earlier than usual. Sounds like everyone's enjoying their holidays, and I hope it continues :D Hope you like the chapter!

_Edit: _FFnet is retarded, not I. See up there? "Since, like, last year:P" Okay, now, since QUESTION MARKS are obviously going in the way of ASTERISKS, I'll just spell this out a little more clearly. Ahem. "Since, like, last year QUESTION MARK :P" There. Okay. I'm done now, aside from the mouth-foaming.

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CHAPTER THIRTY-SEVEN

Leon and Cloud were lingering over the remains of dinner when Axel and Roxas entered the dining hall. Papers crowded the surface of the table as they continued their search for the supplies thief, who had been quiet of late. Axel's face brightened upon seeing them, entirely alone at their table, but one glance at Roxas' expression discouraged him. He grinned sheepishly, scratching the back of his head. "I'll… be good," he promised. Roxas leaned up, kissed him gently with a smile. Axel's mouth twisted up instantly, returning the gesture, a swirl of pure joy filling up his insides as, in the middle of the hall, with people still around, Roxas' current version of PDA didn't include the sweet exchange of kisses.

Kairi, nearby with Naminé, nudged the blonde girl and nodded her head over to where the happy couple stood, ignoring the rest of the world in favour of each other, the air around them practically dancing. "They look good, don't they?" she said softly, smiling. "Finally, huh? Sometimes I wondered about him… but everything's worked out for those two."

Naminé sighed, picking at her leftovers. "They certainly seem happy with each other." She looked over with a wistful expression. "They got lucky."

"_Axel _got lucky," the other girl emphasised. "I don't know how many nights I couldn't sleep for worrying about that jerk. All that time spent pining after Roxas, when they were just friends as kids…" She shook her head. "I'm just thankful, seriously. I'm not even going to waste the fear wondering what it would have been like if Roxas had _rejected _him…"

Naminé scrunched up her nose, nodding in fervent agreement. "It hurts your head to even consider it." She returned her gaze to where the pair had yet to move from their content positions with a sigh. "They really look very sweet together. I wonder where they went this afternoon?"

Kairi shrugged, placing her elbows on the table, hands clasping together as she propped her chin on them. "Probably somewhere to do something disgustingly cute," she supposed. "Wish _I _could get some of that." She looked longingly over at Leon and Cloud. "I'm thinking my chances are dead."

Naminé smiled. "Someday, we'll find guys who aren't all quite so consistently gay. We need a girl's night out, I think. You, me, Larxene."

Kairi was distasteful. "Do we have to invite her? She's… bitchy."

The blonde sighed. "We can't just exclude her, Kairi. I know she comes off as… abrasive… but it would hurt her feelings if we didn't ask her along."

"Or at least piss her off," the other girl muttered, rolling her eyes. "Can we all say 'hypocrisy'? Okay, ask her. But she'd better not be mean."

Yuffie went striding past their table, a firm expression on her face, a woman with a mission. She made a beeline for Leon and Cloud, marched straight to where the blond was sitting, and slapped something down onto the table, startling them both. Cloud's head slipped from its perch upon his fingers, eyes darting up, a scowl finding his mouth a moment later. "Yuffie, what – ?"

"Peace offering," she said shortly, cutting him off. Cloud's features were drawn into puzzlement, eyes dropping to the item under her fingers, slightly thicker than a piece of paper. A card of some sort? Leon was torn between wanting to glare at her for her continuing animosity towards the blond, and his role as leader to keep out of their personal affairs and maintain neutrality. He settled for a frown, gaze stern, ready to step in if she started chewing the man out. Yuffie felt his eyes upon her, ignored it, lifting her hand so that Cloud could pick the item up. He stared blankly at the flat white surface, the size of an envelope, before it occurred to him to turn it over. Eyebrows fell down for a moment of incomprehension, until realisation dawned. He blinked, raised an eyebrow at her uncertainly. "It's… it's a photo of Leon's ass."

"It's _what?" _The brunet made a grab for it, held it between both hands in astonishment.

Yuffie smiled brightly. "Actually, it's both of you!" She leaned over the man's shoulder, pointing, "See, there you are, crippled by the heels! It's poker night!"

There was a long, tense silence. "I don't suppose…" Cloud asked weakly, "this is the original?"

She snorted. "Are you kidding? I mean, aside from the negatives, we all got a copy."

"_All? _All _who?"_

Leon cleared his throat, attempting a tight sort of nonchalance. "What makes you think _this _is a peace offering? What would _Cloud _want with it?"

"Well, it's your first official photo together," she said excitedly, bouncing slightly on her toes. She gripped the back of their chairs, leaning to put her head between theirs, singing, "And a little biiiiirdie told me that last night _you_ two were – "

"Axel, you _asshat," _Cloud bellowed. A sick giggle floated across the hall.

" – _ruttin' like dogs!" _Yuffie finished with a squeal. She grabbed them both around the neck, squeezing them tightly. "Congratulations, boys!"

"Oh, my _God," _Cloud moaned, dropping his head to the table. Then he popped up again a second later, panicked. "Oh, my _God, _you didn't tell Aerith, did you? She'll kill me! She'll – "

"Oh, shut up," Yuffie said, slapping the back of his head. "She doesn't care, she's just glad that you're happy at last."

"Did I _say _I was happy?" the blond wailed. "Did I even say it was _true?"_

"Yuffie, Cloud is still dealing with the death of his ex," said Leon firmly. "Now really isn't the time to be playing these games."

"Games!" She was shocked, a hand to her breast. "Please don't tell me you guys just had a tension-fuck! No, no, _no!" _She stamped her feet, hands becoming fists. "No way! Nu-uh!" She pointed an accusing finger. "You two were _made _for each other, and last night you finally_ realised_ something, _didn't _you?!" She glared, hands propping on hips. "If you want to take things slow, that's just fine, but _do not _deny that you're together now."

The men exchanged wild glances. "Yuffie, we haven't even had a chance to discuss this properly," Leon protested. "You can't just come over and start demanding that we be a couple! You're being complete unfair on Cloud!"

"Oh? And what about _you, _Leon?" A new voice entered the conversation.

Cloud's skull reconnected with the table, as he despaired, "Oh, God, there's two of them."

Tifa took her place beside Yuffie, solidifying their front, making the ninja nod firmly. "That's right – what about what's fair on _you?"_

"What do you mean, what's fair on me?" the man demanded, before suddenly remembering he was meant to be the stoic, emotionless leader of the group. He jammed his fingers into the corners of his eyes. "I don't see how _any _of this is your business, either of you, _anyone," _he added in a loud voice to those open-mouthed eavesdroppers remaining in the hall.

"Well, Aerith told me what Axel told her – "

"I'm gonna kill him," Cloud muttered.

" – and it sounds to me like you two definitely got up to something intimate when no one was looking. Now, I know Cloud has feelings for you, any idiot can see that you have feelings for _Cloud – "_

"Which is no doubt how so many of you noticed," Leon grated between his teeth. Cloud, meanwhile, started flailing in mental pain.

"I'm dying," he croaked. "You're _all – fucking – killing me." _He buried his face in his palms.

"My point _is, _that it's not fair on you to be left hanging like this," Tifa said firmly. "You like him a lot – I won't venture for the other 'L' word just yet, because I know neither of you is ready to hear it – and one thing every woman knows, and most sensible men, is that you _do not leave someone hanging. _You guys are practically _living _together – it's not like you can just _ignore_ this!"

"Yeah!" Yuffie cried, encouraged by the support. "If this was a one-night stand, you guys chose a shitty place to do it, and I _don't _mean the stove, I mean the _castle. _It's not like you can avoid each other!"

"It wasn't a one-night stand," said Cloud desperately.

"So it's a continuing thing?" Tifa pounced.

"I don't know!"

"Will you _leave us alone?" _Leon boomed angrily.

"Not until we know your current marital status! Update me, _now!" _

"Single," Leon snapped.

"In a _fucking relationship," _Cloud cried at the same time. They stopped, stared at each other in confusion and some amounts of panic, said in unison, "I mean – ", stopped again.

Smugly, Tifa folded her arms. "Maybe you two should discuss this further somewhere nice and quiet."

"As long as a discussion is actually _had," _Yuffie warned. "You're both _way _too good at covering your feelings. No being wimpy, now, or we'll have to come run interference."

"Haven't you interfered enough already?" Leon hissed.

"Oh, you can thank Axel for that," the brunette girl said brightly. "After all, he's the one that blurted it out."

"_Fuck you, ninja," _the redhead called across.

"Not with your boyfriend around, honey," she trilled back without turning, "especially after that train-wreck of a love-confession in town."

There was a moment of choking, Tifa whipped around, eyes wide. "Train-wreck? How?"

"Aw, Axel was being all angsty and dumb," Yuffie sniffed, waving a hand. "It's okay now, though, they sorted it out."

"_You weren't even there!" _Axel cried, traumatised.

"Was _too," _she sang, flipping him off over her shoulder. "Anyway, back to the idiots at hand…"

Axel gaped down at Roxas, who stared back, a few shades paler than he had been at the beginning of what had been turning out to be an entertaining display. "What a bitch," the redhead said shrilly. "She was spying on us!"

"Well… she was supposed to be making sure we didn't get attacked, I guess," replied Roxas uncertainly. "She'd need to be close enough to get to us in time…"

"But – but we didn't even _see _her."

"Isn't that a good thing?" Roxas attempted. "I mean, there's no way I would have said what I did if I knew she was hanging around."

Axel scowled, folding his arms, tapping a foot impatiently. "I'm telling you, this place is full of goddamn perverts."

Roxas smirked, poked him in the ribs. "Not the least of which is _you." _Axel grinned, slung an arm around him, pulling him close.

"Ah, perhaps, but I'm _your _pervert. I promise not to perv on _anyone _but _you."_

"And I'm reassured by that," Roxas said dryly, eyes rolling. "Come on, let's get something to eat, I'm starving."

"Something to go, maybe?" Axel suggested hopefully. "The death looks I'm getting from Cloud are kind of killing my appetite."

Roxas smiled crookedly. "Yeah, good idea. Wouldn't want my boyfriend dead before we even _get _anywhere, right?" Axel eyed him suspiciously for a moment.

"Define 'anywhere'."

Roxas' smile crinkled his eyes. "We're already there. I love short trips." Axel's eyes narrowed, lips pursing. He jabbed a finger in the blond's face.

"You. Watch yourself."

"But I thought you liked to be teased," Roxas answered innocently. Axel's mouth opened, no sound coming out, Roxas growing smug. "We really should get a move on. Wouldn't want Cloud to hurt you, now."

The green gaze narrowed further. "You just got evil on me." He considered for a moment, nodded. "I like it."

Roxas gave him a gentle push. "Get the food. I need some air – I'll meet you in the garden." Axel frowned slightly.

"Are you feeling okay?"

Actually… he felt hot, and kind of queasy. His head was swimming slightly, and it wasn't just the gentle euphoria he'd gained after their trip into the city. He felt – shaky. But he nodded. "I just need to clear my head," he murmured. "Don't forget to bring me something." Axel caught his chin, pressed their lips together lingeringly.

"I won't forget you," he said softly. He kissed Roxas' warm forehead, frowning at the heat that met his lips. "I'll bring you something cool." Roxas smiled, pulled away, and left the dining hall. There was a curious sensation creeping up and down his spine, an icy prickle of heat that made him shiver from time to time, slapping at the base of his neck as if there was a bug perched there, crawling back and forth. The exhaustion was playing tricks with his mind. Weren't people meant to start hallucinating after about three consecutive days without sleep? Did it count when Roxas' nights were hideously disturbed? He'd slept earlier, and it had been uneventful, but it hadn't been _enough. _He was glad they had got the chance to go out to Hollow Bastion, pleased and relieved by how things had turned out despite the jerkiness provided by the bewilderment of Axel's thirteen-year fixation having trouble catching up to the present, but God, the sleep he'd caught had been precious. He thought of it longingly as he trudged through the long halls, following the now-familiar maze towards the courtyard garden, wishing he'd had just a few hours longer. Then maybe his limbs wouldn't drag so much, his head so incredibly heavy.

This felt so unhealthy – the darker it got, the weaker he felt. His body knew sleep was due, especially since it was night – what the hell had happened to the long, languid hours he'd experienced in the hospital? He never thought he'd think upon the time with anything more than distaste, but here he was, revering those drugged-up days when nothing was expected but for him to recover. What he wouldn't give to have everything good all in the one time and place – fully-rested, uninjured, with Axel. He was pretty sure he hadn't seen _that _state of affairs since _Twilight Town. _How fucking insane was that?

He pushed open the broad, ornate gates of the garden, hearing them creak loudly as he exited into the coolness, the dark. It was soothing, washing over him in a blanketing wave, obliterating momentarily the leeches of weariness hanging from his flesh, sucking him dry. He headed into the centre of the broad lawn, halted and tilted his head back, wiping his hands over his hair with a sigh, tucking them behind his skull, eyes slipping shut, then opening again reluctantly, flicking from bright star to bright star. He hummed a little, as if talking to himself. Minutes passed, his muscles relaxing, shoes melting into the ground, legs taking root as he allowed his sleepy mind to become mesmerised by the millions of burning planets.

Something darted just in the edge of his vision, distracting him. It was a flicker, a taste of blue, but when he twisted, eyeballs swivelling in their sockets, nothing was there. He paused suddenly, stiffening at the familiarity of this. Not just because of what happened in the tunnels with Seifer during the conditioning process – something else, something insistent at the back of his mind. There was something _recognisable _here. It was like – had he seen it in a movie? Had he watched it on TV? Played a game in which this had happened? Another flash of motion from the other peripheral, he turned sharply, relaxing as Axel approached quietly, feet crushing through the grass. He smiled, toting a small armful of food and drink, face tipping to the side. "You okay, Roxie? Looking kinda pale."

Roxas smiled a little tightly, shrugged. "I'm just – tired." He sagged at the truth of it, dismissing the strange occurrence from his mind. Again, this was all just – exhaustion playing tricks. His frazzled brain was breaking down with the continued abuse. He just – fucking damn it, he needed to _sleep. _Axel reached out with a free finger, poked it into the blond's elbow, steering him easily over towards the stone bench. They sat, legs stretching out automatically. Axel piled the foodstuff between them and leaned his elbows on his knees with a deep breath. He ran his fingers briefly through his hair, a sharp motion, scratching his nails along his scalp. He gave a short laugh. "We're becoming nocturnal or something, huh?"

"Against our wills," Roxas murmured. Axel grunted his heartfelt agreement, making the teen glance over regretfully. "This is all my fault, I'm sor – "

"Shut the fuck up," the redhead scoffed, glancing over with affection. "Are you going to eat, or do I have to stuff myself so we don't get told off for wasting?" He dug through the pile, pulled out a soda. "I know you don't drink these – your teeth and all – but these things are packed with sugar and caffeine and all sorts of awesome nasty shit." He tapped the can against his brow. "Plus, it's icy cold. Figured it'd cool you down a little." He reached out with the hand not being chilled and pressed it against the skin of his forehead, his cheek. "Hm. Tell me if you start feeling bad. We can get something from Aerith. There's an infirmary near the greenhouse like a little drugstore. There's all sorts of stuff for this kind of thing."

Roxas nodded, taking the drink and popping it open, running his finger around the sharp edge for a moment, before bringing the cold aluminium to his lips and swallowing the beverage down. Licking his lips, he asked quietly, "Anything for tranquilising? Sleeping pills, something like that?"

Axel hesitated. "…Maybe. Probably. Yeah. But – I don't think that' s going to help you."

Roxas shrugged, took another mouthful. "The night before last, Aerith gave me a couple of the painkillers from the hospital, I slept all the way through. She hasn't given me any more, though. I wish she had."

The redhead fidgeted. "Yeah… that was me." Roxas looked up sharply.

"Beg pardon?"

Axel squirmed a little. "I told her – not to give you any more pills. They're – not good for you, Rox. Not when you need them."

"Isn't that the fucking _point?" _the blond demanded, irate at the thought of the peaceful night he could have had instead of the trauma they'd both suffered. "I take them, they send me to fucking _sleep – _everybody's happy."

"No. They're not. _I'm _not." He sighed, running his tongue absently along the condensation developing along the curve of his own soda. "Among the other shit I used to do, I kind of got a little too dependent on things like _that, _Rox. Anything for sleep, right? You try watching images of your parents saying goodnight to your happy kid sister, and your love obsession fall asleep in his warm little single bed, and suddenly it gets kind of hard to do it yourself, because – all you can think of is everything you're missing. It's hard to sleep when you're hurting." He pressed the can against his forehead, frowning. "Dem got me out of it. Dobbed me in to Aerith, she got DiZ on my case, and I spent a fun two months hating both their guts and suffering insomnia. After that, I learned to sleep properly, and everything was fine." He pulled his head up, cracking open the top of the drink, fixing Roxas with a hard, determined look. "But there's no way in hell I'm letting it happen to you. That was a crappy episode of my life, and I'm not gonna be a spectator any more than I'm ever going to be the one doing it again. So, no pills. I told Aerith, she agreed. She's got non-drowsy's if you're in pain, but other than that, you're on your own."

Roxas glared. "I really want to call you an asshole." Axel shrugged, gulping down bubbles.

"Can if you want."

"No, I can't," the blond muttered, slouching back, resting the can against his chest. "Asshole."

Axel laughed a little, sending him an amused sidelong look. "Is that because I cut you off from your evil budding drug habit, or because my reasoning's too damn good to argue with?"

"Latter. Asshole." He shook his head. "Why don't you ever tell me this stuff?"

Axel shrugged, wiping a finger across his bottom lip. "I just did, Rox. What do you want me to do, write an anthology of my life and hand it over for you to read over the summer?"

"It'd help," the teen nodded, grimacing ruefully. "I forget sometimes that we're still getting to know each other."

"Ah, it's all part of the mystery and fun of _looove,"_ Axel said, making a stupid face and waving his hands, managing to slosh sticky soda over his hand and thigh. "Aw, fuck," he muttered, pausing to wipe it. He transferred the drink to his other hand, considered how best to clean the mess on his skin – wipe or shake? – before deciding to lick it clean. Roxas' eyes narrowed as he saw the man's intention, watched Axel lap a couple of times, before sitting forward sharply and grabbing his wrist. Axel paused, tongue out like a cat, blinking in surprise at him. A small smile touching his lips, Roxas murmured, "Let me."

"Huh?" Axel hitched in a breath, eyes widening enormously as the blond brought the hand up to his mouth and started sucking and licking at the adhering stain. His brow creased in concentration, Roxas focused on the minute cracks and creases in the flesh, seeking every vein of brown and laving it away, the taste faint, mingled with the inherent saltiness of Axel's skin. At last, when everything seemed clean again, Axel's hand shining from its impromptu bath, Roxas fastened his lips around the area and sucked one last time, noisily, lips smacking as he drew away. He gave it a final lick for good measure, slow and deliberate, eyes rising at last to meet the green, a slight heat of blush in his cheeks. The boldness of it startled them both, really, but Roxas was _feeling _bolder. Without a fear of rejection, he felt he could do almost anything to the man – and it would be well received. Some small, mischievous section of his mind looked forward to the fun of discovering what limits, if any, the redhead would set as to how far he could go.

He released Axel's wrist, licking his lips unconsciously, the flavour lingering. Axel stared, saucer-eyed, breathless for a long moment. At last he gasped, "Fuck." A slight pause, then an afterthought of, "Fuck." He blinked rapidly at the tiny smile of satisfaction on the blond's mouth, lifted his knee. "Gonna suck my jeans? I'll love you forever if you do."

"You'll love me forever anyway," Roxas murmured, lips twitching, glancing away as he lifted the soda and took a delicate sip. Axel gaped.

"Told you you were a fucking tease," he stated, almost awed. "I knew it. I've saddled myself with the sexiest fucking tease in the world. God damn it." Roxas lifted his can high, squinting at it in the faint backwash of light spilling from within the castle. He turned, took Axel's hand gently, held it out over the grass, and dribbled the dark, bubbling beverage over the man's partially outstretched fingers. Axel's eyes, wide before, nearly popped from their sockets, breaths coming hard and fast. "Oh, sh-shit," he stuttered, as Roxas calmly brought the first of the fingers to his mouth and began to suck it clean. As it slid free after several seconds, he said casually, "You know, I've always liked soda – I just hate that it causes cavities. The taste, however…" He moved onto the second finger, took the knuckle in his mouth, curled his tongue around it and drew it down the length of the bone. Axel's other hand, on his knee, formed a tight fist, beating his thigh with a sharp thud, just once, breaths panting in the silence broken only by the wet noises coming from Roxas' thoughtful administration. His heels dug into the ground as he squirmed suddenly. "Ro-xas, I, I don't think, I think, I…" Roxas lifted his face innocently.

"Yes?"

Desperately, the man said, "You're making me wanna – throw you up against a wall. But – but I don't _want _that – I want – I want – "

"What do you want?" the blond asked quietly, voice utterly free of eroticism, yet somehow managing to make Axel squeeze his eyes shut, biting his lip painfully.

"I don't really know," he said, voice higher than usual. "But, but, if you keep this up, I don't know what's gonna happen." His eyelids popped up, he asked anxiously, "Why are you doing this?"

Roxas tilted his head to the side. "Because…"

Axel's eyes searched his. "Yes?"

"…I like soda."

The redhead choked, gasped, spluttered out a hysterical laugh. It cut off into a low, distressed moan as Roxas returned his mouth to the site of the deliberate spill. This time, the blond moved more quickly, efficiently cleaning away the last of the drink, listening to the coughs and jumps in Axel's inhalations. When he at last released the man, Axel was a nervous wreck. His fingers itched to grab the teen and do away with whatever romantic little ideas he'd formed in the several years of his intense infatuation, but – _but – _

"I love you," Roxas murmured, eyes averted, before picking up a thick muesli cake-like concoction of Aerith's and quietly beginning to eat. Dazedly, Axel mimicked the action, reaching between them with a spit-shining hand and grabbing up one of the bars. There was silence as they ate. The redhead felt like he'd been smacked with a plank of wood, repeatedly, with possible brain damage as a result. The muesli crumbled dryly in his mouth, making him choke a little. At last, he couldn't take anymore. He gulped it down with soda, tossing the remainder of the bar into the long grass, his eyes fixed wildly on Roxas. He gasped in as he drew the can away, cleared his throat with his knuckles to his lips – the knuckles the blond had just been sucking on. It took – every _inch _of his willpower to not lick the area. Then again, maybe he _should _have. Show him what it was like to be teased! …Or not, because fuck, this was getting out of hand. He was trying to ignore the hardness in his jeans, all caused by the little minx calmly eating his little cake thing as if he didn't have a care in the world. "So unfair," he muttered. Roxas shot him a look.

"You're the one that protested," he shrugged. "If you don't want me…"

Axel growled low in his throat, eyes like slits. "You know I do. You're being a goddamn cock-tease, and you _know _it."

Golden eyebrows twitched up slightly. "Am I?"

"Yes," replied Axel defiantly. Roxas considered, shrugged again, placed down the end of the cake and licked his lips, standing. The redhead's eyes jumped wide with panic, which became that same desperate surprise when the boy turned and sat again, straddling his hips, knees digging into the stone bench. He shifted to get comfortable, making Axel grunt, eyes rolling back slightly. "So, I'm a tease, am I?" Roxas asked mildly, winding his arms around the man's neck. He leaned forward, with muesli still on his tongue, and licked a long trail up Axel's neck, making him shudder, biting back a whimper. Roxas pulled back, frowned and said, "Fuck," at the little grains of food left behind. He darted in and lapped each piece off the redhead's skin, swallowing forcefully to rid his mouth of any extra, before straightening and looking him in the eye.

Axel kept his head in its awkward position from where he'd unconsciously leaned it back to allow better access to the blond, one eye cracked open, the other sealed shut, breaths coming hard. "What – exactly – are you planning with this?" he asked hoarsely. "I mean, are you _trying _to make me take you somewhere dark and fuck you, or what?"

Roxas shuddered slightly. "Huh. And you say _I _talk dirty." He shook his head. "Why are you over-thinking this? I'm just doing what feels right, and you keep _talking." _He pursed his lips. "Why can't you just keep your mouth shut and enjoy for once?"

Axel gave a half-hysterical, breathy laugh. "Because you have – _no idea what you're doing. _You don't even – even _know _what you're doing to me."

Roxas' eyes darkened. "I have an idea." Axel's breath caught, eyes meeting the blond's, a long, silent moment passing.

"No shit?"

"No shit."

"You're – trying to seduce me in a _garden, _Roxas."

The blond adjusted his position, leaning forward, pressing down on the erection he could feel in Axel's jeans, the man's head thrusting back without thought and cracking into the wall. He winced in sympathy as Axel's mouth flew open, a low groan of pain whispering out. He kissed the man slowly, dragging his tongue with taunting familiarity along the roof of his mouth. The redhead lay almost inert against the crumbling, leafy wall, eyes squeezing shut, doing as Roxas had commanded and just enjoying, trying to not think, trying to keep his alarm at bay. When at last Roxas pulled back, hands pressing against his chest, the short blond said quietly, "Maybe – but it's not like our room is that far off."

"You mean _Demyx's _room?" the man blurted incredulously. "I can't fucking make love to you in _Demyx's _room. That's gross! I have enough difficulty pretending not to see the cum-stains on the mattress whenever Aerith's changing the sheets!" His tone turned pleading. "Where's this even _coming _from?"

Roxas drew back, fixing him with a wry look. "Axel. I'm an eighteen-year-old virgin. That's not fun. You're my boyfriend, I love you, you love me, and you're turning me on because I'm fucking exhausted and right now nothing seems better than us being together."

"You want me because you're sleepy? What am I, a distraction tactic?"

"No."

"You know, sex will send you to sleep," Axel warned. Roxas' eyes narrowed.

"Why are you arguing so much against this?" He shifted deliberately, emphasising Axel's problematic hard-on. "You've spent all this time trying to molest me, since the day you met me virtually, so what's with the coy act all of a sudden?"

"What's with the whore act all of a sudden?" the man countered, then gritted his teeth and hunched his shoulders. "I take it back," he said quickly. "I take it back, I take it _back."_

Roxas, who had gone still, said, with an edge, "Okay, explain this to me. I know there's something going on in that hollow space you call a head, and I want to know what it is."

"I just – " Axel lifted his eyes to the stars, as if seeking escape, but pinned down as he was, there was nowhere he was going until Roxas was satisfied – one way or another. "I mean…" He looked at the blond fretfully. "Haven't you ever wanted something – _really _wanted something, with… with your whole _being… _and imagined what it would be like when you finally had it?" As Roxas opened his mouth, irritation plain on his face, Axel swiftly cut him off, saying, "I'm not trying to act out a fantasy, Rox, I'm not trying to make it like it was in my head, but – but I want it to be…" He swallowed, almost bewildered at his own reluctance. "I don't want your first time to be in some dark little garden. I don't want _my _first time with you to be some rush-fuck against any upright surface just because – just because we're horny." He held up his hands in a reasoning fashion. "Now – now I have _nothing _against a horny Axel's Roxie, nothing at _all, _believe me, but – can't we just…? Can't we make it _proper _or something?" Seeing Roxas beginning to sway, he hesitated, adding, "I don't want to – put you off or anything, Rox, but, I mean, if you're wanting honesty – I mean…" He laughed shortly, eyes begging for understanding. "I've kind of had my share of quick fucks. I got tired of that a long time ago. It'll be different with you, no doubt about that at _all, _but I'm kind of – I want this to be nice is all."

Roxas lowered his chin onto his palms, elbows on the man's chest, frowning a little. "That night in the shower – how far were you willing to go? Because I seem to remember saying practically the same sort of thing then."

"Well… I was kind of going to… suck you off?" he said weakly. "But – it wasn't my plan to grab your virginity and go running off into the night."

Roxas took a deep breath, eyes lifting as he processed this with a heating of cheeks. "Right. Okay. So then – you're serious about this." Axel nodded frantically. Roxas pursed his mouth, one eyebrow lowering. "Okay, then. I've got a shift with Sora tonight, right?"

Axel blinked at the apparent change of subject. "Uh – yes?"

"Soon?"

Axel struggled to think. "Yes. Soon."

Roxas poked him in the chest, saying seriously, "While I'm gone, you're going to find a room for us to move into. I don't care where it is, as long as we don't have to sleep on their cum-stains anymore – I didn't even know that was _there." _His lips curled into a small smile. "We can continue this conversation closer to morning, maybe. It's about time I had my own room anyway."

Axel nodded, teeth clicking together. "O-okay, sure, no problem." Roxas took pity on his breathless confusion, bent in and placed a soft kiss on his lips.

"I want to make you happy," he murmured. Axel blinked into his eyes.

"You – you already have."

"I want to make you happier," Roxas said thickly, staring at his mouth through half-lidded eyes, making the man's jaw clench.

"Right. Okay." The blond's arms wound around his ribcage, and he snuggled down into the warm curve of his chest. Axel gazed at the sky, in a haze of bewilderment and denied lust. "Are – are you still hungry?"

Roxas shook his head, nose bumping his sternum. "Mm-mm. Just sleepy." Axel nodded though the teen couldn't see him, lifting a hand to run absently up and down his spine. Wary of falling asleep, Roxas opened his eyes, feeling the gummy pull as his lashes separated. There was a flash of flickering blue in the corner of his eye, making him stiffen, twisting his head slightly. Axel, not noticing anything amiss, continued to stroke him. Roxas sighed, feeling his mind return from his body thread by thread, and wished the night was already over. A fresh bed with Axel was too tempting for words, the opportunity to finally be together, the pleasure it would be to just sleep in his arms… Roxas craved it, craved the peace, simplicity, and happiness of it all. He'd come a long way from his initial introduction to Hollow Bastion, ideas shifting in his mind to form this slightly newer version of himself, but there was even longer still until morning.

He wished the burgeoning hallucinations would stop.


	38. Chapter 38

**A/N: **Heeeeeyyy, guys. Sorry about the wait – this was finished last night, but oh, it hurt me to look at. Took a couple hours of major scalpel action to tidy it into what it is, and I'm still not entirely sure I'm happy. Hmm. Blah.

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CHAPTER THIRTY-EIGHT

Riku was in the computer lab when Roxas entered, in the same position he'd been in the last time he'd seen him here, perched on the back of the smaller chair, swinging slowly back and forth. His brow was creased, as he peered down at Sora's hands moving over the main keyboard, the brunet's expression identical to his lover's. Both glanced up as Roxas' clanging steps sharpened into clicks as he stepped over onto the tiles, Sora giving a tired smile. "Hey, Roxas, thanks for coming."

The blond waved off his gratitude with some confusion. "That's fine. Not too sure what you think I can _do – _I've barely learned anything about the computer stuff."

"Too busy being hospitalised," Riku nodded, with a crooked half-smile. Sora lifted his head, glared a little, but Roxas smiled in weary agreement.

"Axel said you're not sleeping," Sora said, gaze softening as it transferred to the blond.

"That makes two of you," the silver-haired teen said with an edge of sharpness. "I haven't seen you in bed for nearly forty-eight hours."

"I took a nap earlier," the boy protested. "Besides, this isn't about _me, _I was _talking _to _Roxas." _He turned his blue eyes expectantly to the blond, who blinked, then shrugged.

"Uh, yeah. I haven't been sleeping too great. So – uh, thanks for the opportunity to occupy my mind."

Sora sighed, shaking his head. "Trust me, I need the help."

"Just not from me, huh?" Riku asked, eyes narrowing, stilling his movements for a moment to fix the brunet with a hard look. "You're serious about this. You're actually going to make me leave now that Roxas is here?"

"You have to," Sora insisted, the conversation obviously having existed prior to Roxas' presence in the room. "I'm sorry, you know I am, but this is how DiZ wants it."

"All you and Leon do is suck up to that old coot," the older boy muttered, earning a scowl and a middle finger.

"He's an old coot who knows what he's doing. Me and Leon are basically the only ones that under_stand _that, and you should know better by now!"

Riku sighed, moving his hand in a 'yap-yap-yap' mouth. "Yes, Sora. Fine. Let's all just bow down to DiZ." He jumped from the chair, grabbed the back of Sora's and leaned down to kiss the boy, Roxas' eyes going elsewhere, taking time to admire the glow of the screen bouncing against the ceiling.

Something flickered blue at the edge of the room, bringing his gaze sharply around. Nothing there. He sighed, as Riku pulled back, eyes stuck on Sora's, a serious expression in place. "Take care of yourself. I don't want anything happening to you."

Sora laughed softly, shaking his head. "We'll be fine, Riku. I keep _telling _you, Vincent's totally all over that guy!"

Roxas tuned back in to the conversation. "You mean the one that attacked me and Axel? You're still worried about that?" The two boys nodded, Sora rolling his eyes, Riku grim. Roxas smiled a little. "I don't think you need to worry, really. Me and Axel were in town for a couple of hours earlier, and nothing happened. You'd think if he was around, he'd have chosen then to do something – we couldn't have done much to protect ourselves."

Riku's face eased slightly, he nodded. "I guess so. Thanks. But still." He went firm again. "Do you have your keyblades?"

Roxas raised an eyebrow. "No? I didn't think I'd need them."

"You should bring them on every shift," said Riku sharply. "If there's a raid, this is where they're coming, this is where the core is."

"There isn't going to be a raid," Sora said, tugging on his shirt with exasperation. "Vincent would have known if they were preparing to."

Riku's mouth thinned. "Vincent's not infallible, So."

"Maybe not, but you're paranoid," the brunet said softly. He tugged the teen down for a final kiss, before pushing him away. "Get out of here, so me and Roxas can talk. We're switching shifts at two, so you'll see me then." He slapped Riku's ass as the boy turned. "Don't wait up for me!"

"Do _you _have your keyblades?"

"Yes, _dad, _I have my keyblades, thanks for ruining the surprise." Sora threw up his hands. "Get _out_, before you blurt something else." He twisted in his chair, shoving the silver-haired male with a foot.

"Yeah, yeah, I love you, too," Riku replied sarcastically. He flipped Roxas a short wave. "See you guys later. Take care of each other." He left, Roxas frowning after him.

"Wow. Riku's pretty intense about the safety thing."

Sora sighed, hooking his legs over the arm of the chair, forearms winding beneath them. "Yeah, he worries easily. He holds himself responsible for my protection, stupid person."

Roxas moved over to the smaller chair, lowering down with raised eyebrows. "So, what was that about – keyblades?"

Sora pouted. "It was meant to be a _surprise," _he huffed, swinging his feet back down to the ground. He leaned down and, with a low clink of metal on metal, pulled two long objects up from the ground, brandishing them for the blond to clearly see. Roxas was awed. "I don't believe it. You actually – made some?" He blinked blankly. "How?"

Sora shrugged. "It wasn't so tough. Your dad's design was pretty easy to follow. He did a great job with his own." Roxas leaned forward, inspecting without touching.

"They look different."

Sora tipped his head to one side, propped one between his legs, turned the other in his grasp, holding the simple handle out. "Wanna see?" Roxas hesitated, reached out and wrapped his hand around it, testing the weight. "It's more even," the brunet said. "Your dad's ones were just for show and fun, these ones are made for combat. I had a good time making them," he enthused. "It taught me some different methods, and I think they could do a lot of damage."

Roxas held it up, this one far plainer than the ones his dad had made, more purposeful. "Yeah… my dad's ones… they were always better as bludgeons…" He felt a slight shiver, lowered it, handed it carefully back to the brunet. "You did a good job," he said uneasily. Blue flashed in the corner of his eye, making his head whip around, startling Sora.

"Whoa, what?" He twisted to look around the room. "Did you see something?"

Roxas blinked sharply, chin jerking slightly. "No, it's fine. I'm just… tired."

Watching him with a hint of wariness, Sora nodded. "Okay."

"So how come _you _haven't been to bed?" Roxas asked, trying to forget the vision, hands clasping together to try and warm the chill against his palms where he'd touched the keyblade. The brunet's expression soured. He lowered the keyblades carefully back down, readjusting his position in the big chair with a sigh. "You remember how Twilight Town was having problems?"

"Has something gone wrong?" Roxas demanded hastily. "My friends, are they okay?"

Sora shook his head, a frustrated motion to clear it. "Everyone's _fine, _or at least they _look _it, but weird stuff keeps happening. I don't _get _it." He turned his eyes pleadingly to the blond. "I thought that, since you were in there so recently, you'd be able to help me figure out what's going _on."_

Roxas' eyes widened. "What could _I _help with? I told you, Sora, I don't know any more about using the computer than I did when I _got _here. I'm useless."

The brunet brightened. "Ah, but not _completely," _he said, wagging a finger. He turned to the screen, started typing swiftly. "I've spent the last couple of days recording visual information from the simulation, and some audio of conversations that Tron brought up that didn't sound right…"

"Tron?"

Sora's head came around, expression perplexed. "Yeah, you know…" His eyes widened, rolled back. "You _don't _know. Jesus, what're they _teaching _you? I mean, _are _they teaching you?" He shook his head quickly, continued typing. "Never mind. Okay, crash course time: Tron's the backup system, he records and processes all the data that the core produces. The core is the _main _system, and lately, it's been acting funny. I can't access it like I could, which, believe me," he said fervently, twisting his head without taking his eyes off the screen, "is a majorly bad thing. If we lose control of the core, there goes a chunk of our resources, right there. We really depend on it, and not just because of Twilight Town."

"Okay…" Roxas said slowly.

"So I've been using Tron more and more lately, coz the core hasn't been picking up even _half _the anomalies he's noticed. He found a bunch of data that didn't fit the 'normal' rating that the core is giving itself right now, but no matter what way I look at it, I can't figure out _why _it's so abnormal." He stopped, scowled, turned the chair sharply and dropped his elbows onto his knees, hands becoming animated as he spoke. "I mean, I can see why it's _weird – _there's this – this _change _in a lot of people lately, and the parents aren't acting right. There's been this shift in their personalities, but it's nothing _extreme, _nothing I can necessarily put my finger on, you know?"

"A change in _people? _So this is affecting the people inside the system?" Roxas asked, tensing. Sora sighed, ran a hand through his hair.

"Yes? No? Maybe and a bit of both? A lot of it's due to the way the _adults _are acting. I mean, you know they're part of the sim, right?" Roxas nodded carefully. "Well – " He let out a noise of frustration. "Look, just – have a look at the stuff I'm pulling up, okay? Maybe this was already happening, and I didn't notice. I need to know when things started going wrong. You're the closest thing I've got to an inside expert right now, because I'm not allowed to trust _any _of the other techies." He grew distressed, straightened in his seat. "That _sucks. _I trust _all _of them. But DiZ thinks, and I _agree _which is worse, that this has to have been caused by an _outside source. _That means a _techie. _Someone's fucking with Twilight Town, Roxas," he said unhappily. "And we don't even know why."

Blue. _"Fuck," _the blond hissed, trying to not automatically jerk around again, fingers digging into palms. Damn it, why wouldn't this leave him _alone? _He was so goddamn sick and tired of his head playing tricks! Sora, thinking he was exclaiming over the troubles with Twilight Town, nodded glumly. "So will you help me?"

Roxas snapped his gaze up to Sora's, grimaced, nodded. "Of course I will. I don't want anything bad happening to Twilight Town. My friends are still in there – and, well, a lot of _other _people, too. They need to be taken care of, right?"

Sora agreed, with a hint of relief, "Yeah, they do. Thanks. I seriously appreciate it." Roxas waved it off, eyes darting to the sides briefly, seeing nothing. "What am I looking at?"

A couple of hours passed, the two boys trawling through the information Sora had gathered – or rather, the computer, Tron. Weird name. Roxas had a set of earphones on, listening to snatches of conversation. To begin with, the sensation had been kind of creepy – what kind of peeping Tom had he become? And had this happened to _him _while he was in there? Had his entire life been eavesdropped on? With Axel around, it was entirely possible.

The feeling gradually faded, replaced with concentration. This wasn't about prying, it was about – about _research. _This was _work. _And it felt good. He got this upsurge of satisfaction, to be sitting here, knowing what he was doing after two hours of discovering and learning. There was an element of self-respect instilling itself in him, a sort of pride at being able to handle himself around the complicated electronics, and not just that, but _helping. _He had a notebook like the one Naminé had been using, scribbling down anything that sounded off in his opinion. At the same time, he watched silent interactions on the smaller screen in front of him, observing the body language and reactions of the Twilight children with their pseudo-parents, searching for hints of the unusual behaviour that had disturbed Sora. For a long time, he was puzzled – there was nothing, to his mind, that seemed terribly strange. Nothing that he'd imagine would spark the tense fear and paranoia in both Sora and DiZ like it had. But eventually, something started tugging at his memories – as he watched, as he listened, a sense of unusualness laced its way through it all. Perhaps this was why it was so difficult to discern the cause of it – it was _subtle. _It was _crazily _subtle. For anyone to have noticed at all baffled him, but then, he supposed that was what the computers were for.

At last, it hit him, why things were seeming so odd. "They're all… the same," he said aloud, puzzled, voice muffled to his own ears, which were still hearing the voices from within the system. Sora barely glanced over. Roxas tapped hesitantly at the controls before him, the ones the brunet had shown him to use, running back through the various scenes and conversations for several long minutes. He nodded, reached up to yank his headphones down, twisting to frown at the boy. "Sora. They're all the _same. _All the adults belonging to the system."

Sora looked over, dark under the eyes, and nodded tiredly. "You got it. It's small, but it's like… They're all programmed to be like their original selves, right? At least a little bit. DiZ had information on everyone in the city, just regular stuff, and with the war a lot of people went through psychological evaluations for if Hollow Bastion decided to become a factor in it all other than just neutral, so he had a decent personality base to work from. But now… they've all evened out, haven't they?"

Roxas nodded, understanding. People were different. Some were happy, some were calm, some had a tendency to fly off the handle – he knew that, because he'd _experienced _it. Twilight Town hadn't been filled with robots, it had _felt _like they were real people. But now, the highs had lowered, the dimmer personalities had lifted, and all followed a straight, even line. They were reacting similarly to different situations, all of them, spouting the same litanies, adopting the same tone, same mannerisms. There was a part of Roxas that recognised this single entity they had become, but he couldn't figure out from where. "It's like the core's losing its ability to differentiate between them," Sora said, frustrated. "But that shouldn't be happening."

Roxas hesitated, a crawling dread occurring slowly. "What if – what if it was me? I attacked the system. I cracked the casing near the core, right? It was fine before then."

Sora shook his head. "No, it was thoroughly tested at the time for errors and anomalies, and nothing's changed between then and now that wasn't already happening." He slumped glumly, massaging his forehead with his fingertips. "And the thing is, you now know pretty much what I know. That's _stupid. _I have _so many _years of experience, but I can't figure out more than it took you two _hours_ to."

"What about the computer? The backup? Can't you figure out stuff with that?"

Sora lifted his eyes briefly. "Who, Tron? No, he's not built for doing much more than detecting the stuff. His functions are too different from the core. It's the _core _that has the most intelligence, the most power over it all. And she's all but blocking herself off from us!"

Roxas lifted a brow. "She? And while we're at it, he? You're talking about them like they're people."

Sora grinned a little sheepishly. "Yeah, well, spend enough time in their company, and you start thinking of them that way. They have names, see? Tron's the name of the backup. The core is called Jenova, although we tend to refer to her as an it."  
Blue flicker, blue flame. Roxas' head moved slowly, as the small radio on Sora's hip, the same sort they had been carrying on patrol, went off with a buzz, distracting the brunet's attention.

She was standing there, in the corner of the room, flickering. Her hands were hidden by wide sleeves, her feet by her long skirt, her face by the veil. No longer white – blue now.

_Roxas._

Not even a voice anymore. She was just – inside his head. He felt a chill, eyes darting to Sora. "Whereabouts?" the brunet was saying, with a frown.

She was here. In reality. Out of his head. In a heartbeat, the dreams were remembered, the images flooding through his mind, muscles locking and jerking, breath hitching as his eyes narrowed. What the _fuck _was going on? She just – _stood _there. Watching him. She had followed him, because he had – he'd escaped. She had tried to take him in the dream, and now – now here she was. She had clawed her way from his skull.

Sora's eyes flashed over to the blond with a small amount of alarm. "Sure. No problem. I'll be there in a couple minutes." He lowered the radio, staring for a moment at the beaded sweat appearing on Roxas' brow, the quick breaths, the wide eyes. "You heard that?"

Roxas blinked, tore his eyes anxiously to the brunet. "What? What did I hear?"

Sora stood, bent and hauled up the keyblades, measuring their heft, fingers tightening. For a blinding, panicked moment, Roxas thought he'd seen her. He froze, preparing to launch from his chair – to run, to defend? – when the handle of the plainer weapon was shoved into his chest. He blinked down at it in bewilderment, then up at the brunet's blue eyes. "What are you – what?"

"There's been some kind of disturbance," Sora said quietly. "Vaan's found one of the gate locks broken. We're heading over that way, along with some of the Committee members to see what we can find." He hesitated. "I don't like leaving you alone, but this is pretty far from there. You're safer here than if you come along. I'll send someone back to take care of you, but I'd prefer to be fighting if it's… _him_ again…"

Roxas' blood froze. His eyes flicked to the woman in the corner, still, watchful, nothing more coming into his mind than that initial speaking of his name. He swallowed hard, throat bobbing. "You're leaving me here?" he asked, breathlessly. Sora nudged him with the handle of the keyblade.

"Take this. Just in case." He glanced around the room. "Take care of Twilight Town, Roxas."

The blond shuddered, stomach churning hideously, shaking fingers reaching up to take the blade. Too many, too much, all at once, oh _fuck. _"Axel – where's Axel?" he asked with a sudden, desperate thought. "Is he going, too? Please – " He caught Sora's sleeve. "Don't let him fight. He'll want to, but he's already been hurt. Please."

"If I see him, I'll send him this way," Sora said softly. He gently unplucked the boy's fingers from his shirt. "Good luck, Rox. Be careful."

Roxas drew in a trembling breath, nodded. "You, too." He watched the brunet leave the room, heard his feet clanging on the metal walkway, then nothing as he passed beyond. Roxas was left in a thick fog of silence. He couldn't gasp enough air, head swimming, eyes on the figure in the corner. "What are you doing here?" he asked, voice harsh with fear. "You're not _real."_

She made no sign of having heard him, remained in place like some kind of stationary image. "Fuck," he hissed. He rose slowly, inched toward her, heart pounding, the room suddenly stifling. "Mom," he said loudly, forcefully, "you need to leave. Whatever you want, you can't _get _from me. I belong here, with Axel. Please go."

_Roxas. Mother is sick. _

He jerked, flinching away from the words behind his eyes, hands yanking up towards his face. "I'm going crazy. I'm fucking nuts. Oh, man, why am I all alone?" he moaned.

_Roxas, the bad boy is coming. _

He choked slightly, drew his hands away, keyblade swiping the air, shouted, _"Shut up! _Shut _up _about the bad boy! You had your chance to tell me who he was, and you _didn't, _mom, you _didn't tell me, _I don't know how to help you!"

_Roxas must fight. He must break bones for mother._

"Why won't – why won't you move?" he demanded, high-voiced. "What the hell _are _you?" He reached out with the keyblade, jabbed at her ethereal form. A hand came whipping up, wrapping around the shaft, and a second later a bolt hit Roxas out of the blue, cracked through his body, made his body dance up onto its toes as his head wrenched silently back, back arching insanely. He dropped to the ground, the keyblade clattering down a moment later, her hand returning to its sedate position, gently pressed against her skirt. Roxas' fingers twitched, throat raw as he sucked each rasping breath, a rattle of saliva sounding with each inhalation. His mind was briefly empty, stunned into submission, and into that void she whispered, _Follow mother. When she is gone – follow her to where she showed you. Break the bones, and follow._

A low, whimpering groan came from between the blond's lips. A hand slapped the ground, clawing briefly in a small, clumsy arc. He touched something cold, something hard, something like the handle of a keyblade, but a spike of electricity stung his fingers with a high _pop, _made him snatch them back with a hiss. He curled into a ball, rolling onto his side, eyes wide and anxious. The keyblade lay beside him, harmless-looking. The strong urge to begin weeping built within his skull, trickling down his throat to spread through his chest, continuing down to twist his gut. His panting became shaky, mouth curling down, eyes watering up. But this wouldn't _do._

Teeth gnashing together, he slammed a fist into the floor, letting out a low, enraged noise, directed at himself, at his mother, at this whole fucked-up predicament. What the _hell _was going _on? _He pushed up with one elbow, turning over onto his hip, reaching once again for the metal. It snapped at his flesh, a numbing, dulling, cutting pain. He grabbed it regardless, suffered one more shock to his palm, pushed from the ground, propping his legs up, dragging his upper body up by his thigh, nails twisting into the thick denim. Sweat streaked his features, dampening the sides of his shirt, making the material cling to his back, prickly-hot under his sweater. He coughed, sucked in harshly, glanced into the corner she had haunted and found himself alone – properly, this time. No signs of life, no signs of… shadow.

This… was bad.

She had manifested. He was _seeing _things, he was – was he _feeling _things? He still… _buzzed._ His flesh and sinew hummed slightly from the – the stun. He swallowed, mouth dry, choked a little on nothing, rubbed his sleeve fiercely over his forehead and down his cheeks. He felt sick, dizzy and weak, wobbling around, feet unable to quite keep still, shuffling a couple inches this way, a couple that, before he caught himself, pressing the heel of his palm against his hairline. His eyes slipped shut, a deep breath being taken in the name of control. "Okay. I need – I need to get help. Something's wrong with me. I need – Axel. I need _help." _He shook his head slowly. "I'm losing my mind."

"Roxas?"

The blond spun, tripping over his own feet in his haste, tumbling back against the large chair. Vaan crossed to him in a few quick steps, grabbing him before he slipped, expression concerned. "Jesus, look at you," the other boy exclaimed, eyebrows shooting together. "What's wrong? Are you having a heart attack or something?"

Roxas shook his head hurriedly. "I'm okay. I just – got dizzy." He pushed away from the blond, closed his eyes briefly. "What's going on? What happened to the breach? Did you see Sora?"

"…Yeah, I did, he sent me here," the white-blond boy responded unsurely. "It looks like some Zanarkand soldiers got in. The others are keeping them busy – I came to get the core."

Roxas frowned, rubbed the corners of his eyes. "The – the core?"

Vaan nodded. "I need to get it somewhere safe in case they break through."

"But…" Roxas glanced over at the bank of controls, the flickering screens, confused. "But I thought if the core was disturbed, Twilight Town – you know. Isn't it the whole reason Twilight Town is _going?" _

"It's fine, Roxas," the teen reassured. "Tron'll make sure Twilight Town stays running. This is standard procedure." He made sure Roxas was steady on his feet, patted his shoulders slightly, and went over to the computer. He sat smoothly, started typing. The stumbling tack of keys filled the air. Roxas went slowly over to the smaller chair, sat down and helplessly watched. Fear fluttered in his throat. "Is Axel okay? He's not – he's not fighting, is he?" Vaan didn't respond, caught up in his concentration. Roxas stood again, agitated. "I should go help. It's not the guy that attacked me, so I should – I should go see if they need me – "

"Yeah, you do that," Vaan said distractedly. "I'll take care of the core, promise."

Roxas nodded, fingers tightening around the keyblade. "Where should I go?" Silence. Roxas tilted his head slightly, studying the other teen. A thought occurred to him. "Didn't… Sora send you to take care of me? He said he'd send someone."

"Look, Roxas." Impatience. "Just go, okay? You'll be fine. I'm sure Axel will protect you, or Demyx or someone. It's really not a big deal, just a little breach of security. They'll be cleaned up in no time."

"Then – why are you taking the core?"

Vaan paused, scratched his forehead roughly with his fingertips. "It's just _safer _this way," he said sharply. "Now will you quit with all the questions and just get the fuck out of here? You're not even on duty tonight."

"No, I know, but Sora asked if…" Roxas paused, gaze narrowing slightly, watching the teen. "No one's ever said about the core going anywhere. I thought the system was – delicate."

Vaan crashed his fists on the keyboard, startling the blond back a step. His head whipped around, eyes slitted, hissing, "I think I know the procedure better than _you, _newbie. Just get the fuck out of here, before I decide to kick your ass, huh?"

Roxas' eyes widened. "I'm the one holding the keyblade," he said with an edge. "I doubt you'll kick me far before I end up cutting you. What the hell is _up _with you?"

The boy ran his hands through his hair, obviously fighting for control, frustration bubbling up. "Look, I'm sorry, okay? But if things get out of hand, I need to make sure the core doesn't fall to the enemy. There's _pressure _on me, kid, and I'd prefer to _not _fuck up."

Roxas faltered. He wasn't entirely sure what was going on, he didn't _know _Vaan, but without anyone else around, he didn't know how to act upon this. Vaan _seemed _genuine, he was a techie, for Christ's sake – there was a disturbance in the castle, and if he said the core needed protecting, who was Roxas to try and disagree? There was _plenty _he didn't know, by his own admission, so who was he to try and prevent the teen from fulfilling what could well be a duty of protecting Twilight Town from the hands of the raiders? But… Sora had said that what was happening with the system – it was caused by a techie. Someone he trusted was betraying him – and Vaan's behaviour was weird right now. Sora – he'd asked Roxas to take care of Twilight Town.

He wavered. It wasn't like he could contribute much to a fight at the moment anyway… and… there was just, there was an uncertainty about Vaan, this air of agitation. "Can you leave, please?" the white-blond said tersely. "I can't fucking concentrate with you hanging over me like that. Go help the others. They need you. Axel's there, _he _needs you."

"Axel's fighting?" Roxas' brain snapped away from the room in an instant, panic for the redhead filling his every pore. All thoughts of staying fled as he gritted his teeth. "That _idiot. _Vaan,where do I _go?"_

"Go?" Both blond-topped heads swung around, as an unfamiliar man entered the room, confidence oozing from every ounce of his being. Roxas stared for a moment, before his eyes drifted to the single-barrel shotgun propped against the man's shoulder. Eyes widening, he sucked in a breath, backed away sharply, keyblade coming up. The stranger said, smirking, "Oh, you're not going _anywhere, _old boy – wouldn't want you alerting the others, now, would we?"

"_Zanarkand," _Roxas guessed, voice hard. Apprehension gripped his lungs, eyes darting back to the gun. Its bearer shrugged.

"If you say so." He sauntered closer, lips pursed, an utterly casual air about him. "So, then, how about you place down that curious-looking creation and take a seat like your friend, sunshine?"

"You can't have the core," Roxas stated, fingers firming around the keyblade despite the oil of sweat slicking under his skin. "We won't let you take it."

The man lifted an eyebrow. "'We'?" He glanced over at Vaan. "Are you just about finished, or do I have to come and do that _for _you?"

There was a beat of silence as Vaan paused, hands poised over the keyboard, face tilted slightly towards Roxas as the blond processed these words mutely. Quietly, the taller boy said, "I can _do _it, Balthier."

The man twirled a hand elegantly. "Well, then, get on with it. If I'd thought we were going to stay and chat, I'd have brought a picnic, but sadly, we really do have to rush." He smiled at Roxas. "We'll be out of your hair shortly. My apologies for the inconvenience."

Roxas gazed blankly at the white-blond. "What - what are you _doing?"_

"Who, Vaan?" the intruder asked, a charming smile in place. "He's working, feverishly no doubt, to pluck that pretty little piece of machinery from the system so we can all prance off into the night and leave you in peace."

Dread settled on his stomach, the keyblade sinking. "You're… stealing the core?" he asked quietly. Vaan resumed working. Roxas snatched the keyblade up, smashing it into the smaller chair to grab his attention. "You can't do this!" he shouted furiously. "You'll destroy Twilight Town!"

"It's a _virtual_ town," replied Vaan passionlessly. "It's not even real."

"There are _people _in there," Roxas argued. "It's real to _them! _They're living their _lives _in there!"

"Then they're not real either," the teen muttered.

Roxas took a breath, staring in distress for moment, before stepping back and sweeping up the keyblade, uncertain but determined. "I won't let you take it."

The gun was suddenly down at hip level, pointed at Roxas, loaded noisily, deliberately. Wearing a broad, amused grin, the man said, "Now, now, no playing rough. Just relax, lad, this will be over before you know it."

Roxas stared for a moment, eyebrows lowering in defeat. "You can't _do _this," he said desperately. "Damn it, Vaan, what the _fuck _are you doing?"

"I'm getting _out," _he said tightly, not glancing up from where he worked. "You might be content wasting your whole goddamn life away in this shit-hole, but I want to be _free. _I want to be a pirate, Roxas, and this is the best way to get there."

"Consider this his virgin outing," the cheerful man drawled. "He gives us the Jenova core to do with what we will, and he gains a spot on my ship." He paused, added brightly, "He hates you all, you know."

"Shut the fuck _up, _Balthier," Vaan snapped. He spared a glance at Roxas. "Look, Roxas, don't take this personally. I _don't _hate everyone, I just want this shit to _end. _I want to be in the sky, and this is my only ticket up there."

Roxas blinked rapidly. "Don't take it personally? These are – my _friends. _You'll kill them."

"No, I won't," he replied patiently. "They'll be fine. As long as the core survives, they survive."

"But – what are you going to _do _with it?"

"Sell it? Crush it and smoke it?" Balthier suggested. "It's a valuable little trinket. We'll take special care of it." He winked. "Pirate's promise."

In a snap-motion, Roxas leapt forward, aiming a backhand whack at Vaan's head with the blunt side of the keyblade, clipping him a split-second before the man's gun rammed in and knocked it away. Vaan hissed a curse, not pausing in his work except to quickly check to see if there was blood beneath his hair.

"No brains coming out? Good, keep going," Balthier said swiftly, unsympathetic. "We don't have _time _for this little game, Vaan. If you want to come with us, you get that core out _now." _He slipped in front of the chair, facing Roxas with a sigh. "As for you – very rude, I must say. Attacking an unarmed man? I dare say, that was cowardly." He stabbed with the barrel, driving it deep into the blond's stomach. Roxas let out groan, dropping to his knees. A moment later, he vomited, tasted sourness and blood from where he'd bitten himself. "Leave him alone," Vaan said sharply. "He's already got cracked ribs. Fuck, he _doesn't _need us beating him up."

"Just returning the favour," the man said airily. He swirled the gun impatiently. "Why is this taking so _long? _You said two minutes, tops."

"I wasn't expecting to have company, okay?! The lab was meant to be _empty."_

"Ah, yes, but your dear cracked-rib friend has spoiled that, hasn't he?" Balthier's voice hardened momentarily. "Make sure you're serious about this, Vaan. It would be a bad start to your career if you were to slow us down."

"It's nearly done," the boy insisted. "There's something interfering with the last of the virus. The core's fighting us."

"I do so love my women feisty," Balthier sighed. "But really, we haven't the time for this." He twisted to Roxas' heaving form, kicking him with a toe as the blond attempted to drag himself up by the other chair. "You, do you know anything about all this? Maybe you'll do better." He lifted the gun with a pleasant smile. "With proper encouragement, of course."

"Don't _bother," _Vaan said crossly. "He doesn't know how, he's too new."

Roxas sat back on his heels slowly, clutching his middle, gasping, eyes glued shut. He still held Sora's keyblade, knuckles white around the metal. His middle was on fire, all centred on the whirlwind where he'd been rammed, a choking pain spiralling to encompass his chest. He struggled to regain his breath, the rapid tick of typing increasing to a fever-pitch for a moment, before: _"There. _It's done." Roxas' head snapped up, eyes horrified. A small panel opened up in the centre of the controls, a red light blossoming from within. Balthier raised his eyes, glancing around, apparently pleased with the lack of alarm.

"Bravo. I'm impressed. You took less time than I thought you would." Vaan shot him a glare, got up and reached in, arm disappearing almost to the elbow inside the control bank. Roxas watched with desperate helplessness as a small grape-sized ball was withdrawn, hair-thin wires ravelled around it. Vaan all but brushed them off, their grip so gentle, so delicately placed.

Roxas' eyes darted about. Why was nothing _happening?_ Why wasn't the castle in an uproar by now? The core was _out._ "Don't," he said hoarsely, eyes boring into the side of the teen's head. _"Please." _Vaan barely looked at him. The computer screen flickered, briefly blue, then died. Roxas stared in horror. Oh, God. Hayner, Pence, Olette…

Balthier stepped forward, tucking the shotgun under his arm, bringing out a small box, the sort usually reserved for holding glittering engagement rings, diamonds the size of rocks, dark blue velvet, silken insides. Vaan carefully placed the seed of technology within, eased the lid shut. The pirate tucked the box into a pouch around his middle, backed off to allow Vaan to stand and exit the terminal. "Let's go," the teen said tersely. "Fran can't keep the others busy forever."

"My thoughts precisely, old boy," the man agreed suavely. "But – " He gestured with the gun. "Your friend?"

The boy hesitated, glancing down at Roxas for a silent moment, gaze going from one pleading blue eye to the other. "…He won't stop us."

They turned to leave, started towards the door.The core was being taken right out from under Roxas' _nose!_ A spike of panic flashed through him. "Vaan, wait! You can't _do _this!" He dragged himself to his feet, keyblade clanging dully against the tiles."Bring it _back!" _They ignored him utterly, and as long as that bastard was toting a firearm, there was _nothing he could do. _

Or at least, almost nothing.

He took a deep breath, let it out in a hiss. He turned, eyeing the terminal for a moment, sizing it up, hoping that whatever Vaan had done with the computer hadn't shut off the security system indefinitely. Then, biting his lip, he swung the keyblade up over his shoulder, baseball style, every muscle tensing, readying, and drove it straight into the controls with a crash. The vacating thieves leapt at the noise, spun around with identically round eyes as Roxas wound up, took another wild smash, face contorted with effort. A frantic edge crossed Vaan's expression, he started back, reaching out a hand, stuttering, "W-wait – !" Spurred on, a thrill of hope sparking to life at his tone, Roxas stuck a foot onto the edge of the bank, lifted straight up, and buried the keyblade into the core's former resting place, feeling the walls shred under its sharp teeth.

Sirens erupted out of nowhere, screaming deafeningly, the world becoming a blaze of strobing lights. He ripped free, continued with one last blow, stabbed the screen with a deep, muted growl, watched it shatter, spit and sweat flying. The keyblade remained where it was, rammed deep, the blond backing away, lost inside the insanity blaring from every inch of the room.

A hand wrapped around his neck, shoved him across to thud against the far wall. An instant later, the shotgun slammed against his throat, blocking his airway. He inhaled instinctively, nothing happening except for the swelling of his tongue, the revolt of his lungs. He gagged and writhed, fingers plucking futilely at the metal as a mouth came up against his ear. A murmured shout: "If I were a more spiteful man, you wouldn't live to see the sun." A forceful grinding of the weapon, threatening to crush him, and suddenly Roxas was released, sagging down the wall, one hand scratching at it to keep from simply collapsing, while the other clutched at his neck. He screeched air, choking and gasping, brain a nervous wreck from the profusion of lights and noise. Nails digging into his skin, he looked up, found the room deserted. Hopelessness crashed over him.

They were gone, and they'd taken Twilight Town with them.

Roxas crumbled into exhausted tears.


	39. Chapter 39

**A/N: **Sorry for the delay (again) – this time wasn't my fault, my sister was sick all of yesterday, and I simply didn't get a chance to sit down and _write _until late at night. However, how does almost double-length sound as compensation? This chapter's events were strict – I simply couldn't drop _any _of them. As a result, the usual ten page limit was very firmly surpassed. :D Enjoy, my lovelies, and be sure to review ;P

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CHAPTER THIRTY-NINE

Axel was running.

There he'd been, standing in front of the broad, wide windows in the dining hall with Aerith and Leon, nursing a cup of coffee, left hand curled in slightly towards his body the way it did these days, in an effort to save his shoulder from any unnecessary pain. The three of them had been discussing, rationally for the first time for Axel, the various options they had as far as getting Roxas better was concerned. It hurt him, to know he was such a superfluous part of the proceedings. The only reason he was even involved was because he was Roxas' boyfriend, and had a better insight into him than the others – but as far as actually _helping_ him, Axel was useless.

Frustration had been rising in him the longer the conversation stretched, not because nothing was getting done, but because it _was_. The helplessness twisted. He wanted to slam down his mug on the nearby counter, tell them both to fuck off – although, perhaps in a slightly nicer way to Aerith – and leave him to take care of _his Roxie. _He didn't _want _other people being involved, because he felt like, no matter what they'd realised, no matter what Roxas had said, he _should _have been able to heal the boy somehow. Should have been able to get him to talk about his problems in order to make them go away, should have been able to kiss away the fear – fucking _damn _it, his arms should have been safe enough to sleep in so that the blond didn't have to dream! But things just didn't work out that way, and so the mug remained in his hands, sipped at from time to time, aggravation swelling and subsiding like the tides.

And then all hell had broken loose – Aerith was cut off mid-word as the lights simply shut off for a brief second, the afterglow hovering in front of their eyes like a starburst. Then came the sirens, screaming from every orifice the castle possessed, the lights bright red and white, flashing hysterically. Axel didn't notice the cup slip from his fingers and shatter, his need to grip forgotten as his heart launched into his throat. The bewilderment lasted all of three seconds, before each of them realised, the reality of it snapping efficiently into place, that the core was in danger. It took a further moment for Axel to remember that Roxas was there – he was in the lab _right now. _

That was when he'd started sprinting, long legs spreading far, body staying low as he rounded each corner, scarlet spikes jolting. He didn't know if the others were following, didn't care, couldn't even think beyond the one name running continuously through his mind. Terror. That was all Axel knew. The sheer terror that came from the little voice in the back of his head telling him that this was long enough. Thirteen years of torment earned you a month of light, and then it was back to the darkness again.

Nothing lasts forever.

He met several others along the way, but their faces were blurred. They didn't exist. He was the only one, all over again. He was deathly alone, just he and his stretching, fractured, leaping shadow in this world of madness and lights. He was dimly aware of the pain that tore through his shoulder as he raced with arms pumping, radiating down to the elbow and then again to the fingertips with a surge, spreading like a blanket of warmth from one collar to the next, up into his neck, his jaw. But it didn't _matter, _none of it _mattered. _

Somehow, he shoved his way into the computer lab first, never minding that he didn't have even a single chakram, blowtorch forgotten despite its ever-present quality, danger not even recognised as he bust through into the heart of the insanity. He ground to a halt, eyes falling first on the damage, and a piece of his heart seemed as if to splinter off and shatter at seeing the familiar design of a keyblade handle jutting from the screen. Sparks flew from the terminal, the devastation astronomical, all crumpled metal and ripped out wires. He took several panicked steps in, casting about frantically for the blond he was already certain would be long gone, spirited away, no doubt forever, because that was what _happened. _And this time, Axel wouldn't even be able to watch him wake up each morning.

And then… in the frenzy of his anguish, his eyes drifted down to the huddle against the wall, the quaking figure, face hidden away, buried between hands and thighs. Axel's heart paused, and for a long moment there was white silence.

Roxas jumped and cried out hoarsely as the hands descended upon him, fingers wrapping around the sides of his head to bring it jerking up. He found himself blinking, shaking, into Axel's stunned features. He saw his name formed by the lips, gasped one in return, but this universe didn't allow any sound but the kind it supplied, and they were rendered mute. Axel gripped him for a moment, fingertips digging in as a wild look entered his eyes. He dragged Roxas close, crushing him in a brief embrace, wishing desperately that the boy could be breathed in, inhaled into himself where he wouldn't need to worry about people hurting him, or himself, or ever, ever leaving. Roxas' arms wrapped around him, and Axel could feel the cracked sobs trembling through the too-slender body, too small, too fucking _frail. _A weight of despair descended on his shoulders, chest gripping, at the sudden realisation that Roxas would only ever be okay when he was around. He couldn't leave the teen alone again, because God only knew the second he blinked for too long, Axel would find himself without his Roxas.

A moment later, he was wrenched away from the boy, desperation erupting as his fingers were jerked free. Leon hauled him to his feet, expression fierce, and shoved him over to the controls with a stabbed finger, tacit command to shut the fucking sirens _off. _Aerith swooped down to take his place with Roxas, skilled hands immediately beginning to check the boy over. Leon grabbed his uninjured shoulder and pushed him roughly. He stumbled a little, dazed, eyes finally disconnecting from the view of the blond. He turned his attention to the terminal.

In the meantime, Roxas, without Axel to hold him upright, slumped back against the wall. The tears continued to trickle down his face, stinging, the back of his throat burning from stomach acid, the front of it throbbing with the pain of having been throttled with the barrel of a shotgun. His ribs ached, a steady, thumping metronome set up in a perfect circle on his stomach where the gun had jabbed him, beating in almost complete synchronisation with the whooping of the alarms. His pumping blood had rhythm. Aerith's touches were invasive in his current state – he suddenly wanted nothing more than to slip backwards through the wall and sleep. But he endured, eyelashes flickering slowly, anxiety twisting his insides. He couldn't stop shaking. His hands, when he unfurled them from their clenched state, jerked with each snatched breath.

At last, the sirens stopped. A collective sigh of relief was exhaled, then Aerith was holding him gently, hugging him, nails accidentally catching on his skin and making him flinch as she wiped the tears from his face.

"Please." She drew back, and both she and Roxas looked up at Axel, who hovered over them uncertainly. He held out his hands a little, helplessly. "Please, can I?" Aerith hesitated, nodded, sat back on her heels and pressed up to her feet. She and Leon watched as the redhead sank down beside the blond, as they simply folded together, like two magnets within their chests sucked them, one to the other, and clung.

Leon's face turned grimly towards the damage. "What happened here?" He returned his gaze to the two males on the floor, Axel's hands moving nervously, brushing a flaxen spike, sweeping a damp cheekbone, cupping a shoulder, an elbow.

"Leon, we gotta fucking _problem!" _Yuffie's voice grew louder as she approached from the walkway, the ninja screeching to a halt at the doorway a bare moment later, gripping the frame and panting. There was blood on her shoulder. Leon whipped around, eyes wide. "Yuffie?"

"Breach! Sora and Cloud are hurt! Aerith, get your pink-clad ass _out _there and start staunching, coz we got a couple o' bleeders going on."

Leon shifted from startled to fury in a heartbeat. "What happened?"

"A fucking _viera," _the girl panted, voice so high it touched the ceiling, leaning against the doorframe as Aerith went hurrying past without another word, skirt swishing, boots clacking sharply. She said over her shoulder, "East wing, cellar entrance!"

The woman barely wasted the energy nodding, gone a second later, while Leon spluttered, then demanded, _"Cellar _entrance? How did they know about it? _Who?"_

"I don't know," the brunette replied shrilly, hands flinging up. "All I know is that one second, Vaan's saying over the radio about a broken lock, and by the time I get there, there's a fucking _battle _going on!"

"It was Vaan," Roxas said, voice hoarse, strangled, a choking noise. All eyes turned upon him, Axel's grip tightening. "He took it." The tears started up again, fat drops rolling from his eyes, breaths hitching wetly.

"Took _what?" _Leon asked sharply. Yuffie's eyes went round.

"Use your head, Leon," she breathed.

"The core," Axel said quietly, adjusting Roxas in his arms, placing his cheek against the boy's head. "The core's gone."

Leon whipped around, face wrenched with panic. A second later he had a cell phone whipped out, was bolting from the room. They heard his voice burst out in a shout as someone picked up on the other end. Almost as soon as he'd left, more people came piling in to replace him, Zexion and Demyx, Riku with mussed hair and desperate eyes. He shoved through, saw Roxas, saw the devastation, demanded in a high voice, "Where's Sora?!"

"Cellar entrance," Yuffie responded. "He's hurt, but Aerith's on her way." The teen's eyes bulged. He was wearing boxers and a cotton dressing gown to his knees, partially untied, giving him a wild appearance as he absorbed this news. His feet slapped against the tiles, the metal walkway, and his flying silver hair was gone.

Demyx went straight over to Axel and Roxas, as Zexion shifted sharply over to the controls. His gasp was soft, but loud in the silence. "The core!" He twisted, pupils pinpricks of fear. "Where is it? Where's the _core?"_

Yuffie went to the clump of the trio on the floor, bouncing down into a crouch, expression filled with worry. "Roxas, tell us what happened."

"Vaan," he said again, softly, clinging to Axel. "He took it."

Demyx's mouth dropped open, head shaking. "No, Roxie, naw, you – you can't be right…"

"He said it happened," Axel snarled, his voice a furious purr in the post-traumatic hush. "Don't you _dare _fucking doubt him, Dem!" There was a low tinkling crunch as Zexion shifted over, also in pajamas, feet inexplicably clad in rainbow-coloured knee-high socks and fluffy bunny slippers that practically screamed an advertisement for Demyx's wardrobe. He bent also, rubbing a hand over his lover's back. For once, his hair was swept back, the heavy bangs clipped hastily to one side, both eyes visible. He looked younger like this, less of a distant man and more just barely out of his teens like Axel and Demyx. He was close to hyperventilating, his breaths so short and shallow, but his expression was controlled to just the barest hint of his distress. "Roxas, are you sure? Vaan – Vaan _took _the core?"

"Him and – another guy," the blond confirmed, stricken, meeting his gaze. "I – I _tried, _but – he had a gun, and – "

"Roxas, what's up with your voice?" Demyx asked shakily. "What's – what's with the bruising? Did – did Vaan hurt you?"

"_Bruising?" _Axel jerked his head back, twisted around to get a better look at the blond. Sure enough, in a rough bar across his throat, a vicious mottle was forming. Roxas gulped, shook his head in grief. "I'm _fine, _but the _core… _Twilight Town – it's – it's _gone."_

Zexion was gripping his hand a bare moment later, nearly painful in its intensity, Axel looking as if he wanted to yank the teen out of reach, stopping only at the painful sorrow on the man's face. "I believe you," Zexion said quickly, more emotion shaking his voice than any of them but Demyx had ever seen. "I won't let anyone blame you, Roxas. If – if DiZ tries to – "

"I'll fucking _kill _him," Axel growled. "Nobody's going to blame Roxas, or I'll fucking _bleed them." _

"Twilight Town was home for our whole lives," the slate-haired man continued, ignoring the outburst, squeezing the blond's hand further still, even as Demyx hooked his other one. "I know you tried. I _know _you tried."

Roxas struggled to keep from breaking down completely. Axel felt him tremble, kissed his cheek fiercely. "It'll be _okay. _Come on, let's get you off the floor." They stood up, Yuffie looking more upset with each passing minute.

"I can't believe we lost it," she murmured, as they all straightened but Roxas. The blond grunted as the fire exploded in his middle, clutching the site with a low, breathy groan. Axel bent, asking fearfully, "Roxie? What's up? Are you hurt?"

"I'm okay," he choked out. "Just – he got me with his gun…"

"_What?" _

"I – I'm not shot," he cried weakly, as everyone started lunging en masse.

"Indeed you are not," a voice growled from the doorway. They turned, Roxas paling as DiZ swept into the room, visible eye blazing. "Tell me," he said shortly.

"Fucking _Vaan," _Axel began, upper lip curling to reveal his teeth, cut off a moment later by a curt hand held an inch from his face.

"Roxas," he clarified in hard tones. "I wish to hear it from Roxas."

Axel bristled. "He didn't do anything wrong! He did his _best!"_

"_I wish to hear what Roxas has to say," _the man boomed suddenly, silencing the redhead, his presence electric in the space which abruptly felt so much smaller. Axel's hands tightened on the teen. Roxas took a deep breath, rubbed his face slowly.

"They had a gun… I swear, there was nothing I could _do…"_

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"This was entirely my fault," DiZ said calmly, to the collected, as they all sat around the larger table in the centre of the dining hall, the impromptu meeting place, the emergency convergence point. All the lights were on, blazing like daytime, making the outer darkness look all the more thick in comparison. There were… gaping holes around the table. No Sora. No Cloud. No Riku. No Larxene, as yet. Kairi sat between Naminé and Axel, quietly weeping, each hand being gripped. Axel's other arm held Roxas' exhausted head against his shoulder, fingers moving slowly across his scalp. Every now and then, the boy would tense, breath hitching, and Axel would pause. He would turn his chin slightly, and press his nose into the mess of spikes until the blond relaxed again, as much as was possible in this hideous, too-quiet aftermath. Every breath could be heard. Every shoe-squeak, from the few wearing any, every chair-leg scrape, every cleared throat like a small rumble of thunder through the tension, and Roxas, with a constant dull thud in his, was doing it constantly. An air of panic coursed through his veins without cessation – he could feel time wasting, could sense the thieves getting further and further away, yet here they all sat, torn from beds and duties, doing ­_nothing. _It was tearing his nerves to shreds, made him want to leap up and _demand _action. He might not have stopped them, but he _fucking _well made it so they couldn't get away, and what had happened? _What had happened? _They'd got away. _That _was what had fucking happened. Everything, _everything, _every ounce of effort, had been wasted. And now they were _sitting._

Cid's eyes narrowed. "Whaddaya mean, your fault? You didn't snatch the fuckin' core and shoot those goddamn arrows into Cloud and Sora."

"No. Obviously. But I've been suspicious of Vaan for a while, and made no move to intervene with his activities," the man responded placidly.

"Why?" Yuffie demanded, the Committee members less fearful of the master technician than his underlings. "If you had suspicions, why didn't you let anyone know? You didn't even tell Vincent!"

"I wanted Vaan to feel safe enough to continue," DiZ said. "I wanted firm evidence."

"Congratulations," Roxas muttered. "You got some. _Now _can we go after the core?"

DiZ snorted slightly, sending the blond a pitying look. "That will get us _nowhere. _Our only jurisdiction is within the castle walls. The instant the thieves, and Vaan, disappeared from the grounds, we lost our claim to them. At the present moment, the Jenova core is in the hands of pirates, whom can be easily bought. Were we to pursue them, attention would be drawn to the conflict, and Zanarkand soldiers would intervene. What we currently have is a _quandary. _If Zanarkand, however, gets hold of it, we will find ourselves with a disaster."

"But – it's – it's _Twilight Town!" _Roxas argued, unable to keep his agitation down, sitting straighter in his chair. "What if they do something to it? I mean – why is nothing being _done?"_

"There are procedures to be followed," the man replied sharply. "Ones of which _you _are not aware. And any delay that may happen is caused _directly _by Sora's foolishness, at both getting injured, and allowing Vaan to be left alone with the core."

Leon frowned. "I beg your pardon, sir, but Sora's done nothing wrong. How was he supposed to know what Vaan was up to?"

"You didn't even tell _him," _Roxas agreed fiercely, refusing to simply back down. "He told me he had no idea who was doing it – he trusted _everyone!"_

"More foolish yet," the man replied curtly. "He allowed himself to be manipulated."

"How did this go from being your fault to being Sora's?" Axel demanded. "You sure flipped that around fast, _sir."_

DiZ's gaze found him impassively. "We must all take our share of the blame."

"Except for Roxas," Demyx interjected, for once without his usual brightness and verve. Zexion sat quietly beside him, a numb expression in place. "I think he was really brave."

DiZ sighed. "And in the meantime managed to destroy hundreds of thousands of dollars worth of technology." His revealed eye found Roxas disapprovingly, withering whatever appreciation had been building in his chest from the show of support. It was with horror that he heard DiZ say, "You would have done better letting them leave and then alerting someone immediately. Because of your actions, instead of catching the thieves before they could exit the castle grounds, those who might have been in a reasonable position to do so were too busy rushing to the main lab to discern the cause of the alarm." The man shifted slightly, adding, "Perhaps this is the point where you will realise, Roxas, that violence does not solve problems – it merely perpetuates them. It is time you learned this, properly. I only hope you take enough from this catastrophic event to keep those words in mind."

He was struck dumb. There was – nothing he could say. Nothing he could even think. The monstrousness of the realisation hit him like a ton of bricks – he had fucked up. Badly. When he'd thought he was saving his friends, he was, in fact, just widening the distance between them, before they had even left the room… His elbows hit the table hard, head sagging, smacking into his palms. He stared at the tarnished metal surface, struggling against the freshest onslaught of tears that threatened to fall. He opened his mouth, to say something, _anything, _something _pertinent, _perhaps in his defence, the other inhabitants of the table looking on with a mixture of sympathy and frustration – but all that came whispering forth was: "I'm… so tired."

DiZ's mouth thinned. "We can hope, at least, that they won't have strayed too far. I am working on it now – I have leftover files from Jenova, and I'm attempting to track down the latest prediction. Perhaps it will have something useful to offer."

"Good luck," Axel muttered, tipping his head back with a strangled sigh. "Even before it was gone, the core was fucking around with that sort of thing…"

"It's a shame there aren't more technicians to contribute to this," the man scowled. "It would be useful to know the discrepancies you've all been taking note of."

"Maybe if you'd _told _us," Kairi snapped suddenly, face shining and blotchy, looking like the wreck Roxas felt himself to be. He almost envied her ability to look so distressed and haggard – he, in contrast, was now locked in the stony stages of numb shock. "Maybe we could've tried to figure it out _together!" _She was unintimidated by his flat look in her direction.

"Young lady, I think it's become quite apparent why nothing was said."

_Young lady. _Condescending fuck. Her eyes narrowed dangerously, but a squeeze from both Naminé and Axel, and she fell silent, content to instead grind her teeth and think horrible thoughts in amongst the petrified ones.

It occurred to Roxas that the majority of the gathered techies right now were all recently departed from Twilight Town, within the last few years. No wonder the air around the table pulsed with so much worry. They might have left it behind, it might not be home anymore, and no, it was never real, but it was their _childhood. _It was their memories, and the remnants of what was once their lives. Old friends might have been left behind, consigned to remain between the invisible walls, but that didn't mean they were forgotten, didn't mean no one out here _cared. _Glancing around, Roxas saw fear etched into the lines of their faces, and felt a slight easing of his own. It was absorbed by the slightest amount of comfort, the likes of which not even Axel's constant touches and reassurances could grant. They were – together in this. He wasn't suffering alone. And at least no one blamed him – although he was quickly beginning to see that maybe they _should. _If he'd just been a good coward and stayed down, run off the second it was safe to, maybe the core would be home again, within a whole, undamaged computer. By fighting for his friends, he had lost them. That… twisted.

He scrunched handfuls of hair with a deep, gradual breath, battling firmly against the swirling, anxious self-loathing that attempted to rise, sour in his gut, in the back of his aching throat. Everything was sore outside. Everything burned _in_side. This was – very possibly the worst night ever. In history. He couldn't remember – _ever _feeling this bad before. It threatened to send him howling into a corner, when the shell that had hardened around his skin and heart finally cracked. He pressed his eyes into the heels of his palms, and waited for it all to finish. He wanted to just… find somewhere dark and curl away for the next ten years.

Axel's hand on him shifted up to the back of his neck, pressing gently, massaging to soothe. It leapt away a few seconds later, however, all heads wrenching around as a panicked Larxene came sprinting into the room. _"Where is she?" _Her eyes fell on Roxas, a snarl forming, taser ripped out of her pocket a moment later and jammed up against his jugular. He choked in a breath, a noise of startled fright leaping from his throat. "What did you _do, _you little _freak?"_

The table sprang to life, everyone jumping up at once. Axel lunged across the blond, whipping out his blowtorch, its flare billowing to life and searing the woman's forearm. She roared, wrenching back, skin and hair smoking. "That was on a high flame, bitch," Axel growled, just about straddling Roxas, the torch held out like a gun, steady yellow fire hissing out. "You fucking touch him _again _and I'll slice your fucking arm _off."_

"Larxene!" Naminé was up, running to the woman in horror. "What are you doing?"

Larxene's head jerked up, expression turning blank for a moment before, to everyone's unending disbelief, she burst into tears. "I thought he'd hurt you," she wailed. The blonde girl took her elbow carefully, leading her over to her chair.

"Why would you think that?" she asked gently. "Roxas is my friend, he's not going to hurt me."

"He's a fucking little _psycho _is what he is," she snapped, tears ending as abruptly as they'd begun, though continuing to shimmer on her reddening cheeks. She jabbed the taser in his direction, making Axel's lips peel back from his teeth. "He fucking trashed Axel's room, tore the fucking place to pieces, he broke Zexion's _arm – _he's out of control!"

Axel was apoplectic, preparing to climb over the table and strangle the woman judging by the sudden snap in the energy around him. Roxas grabbed him before he could act on the urge, clinging to him, mumbling desperately into his ear, "Please don't leave me." Axel hesitated, then settled back against him, careful of his throat, his ribs. He glared daggers across at her, and Larxene returned the look.

"He's not _out of control," _Axel said, voice shaking in its struggle to remain level. "Every time he's done anything like that, he hasn't even been aware of it."

"And is that supposed to make me feel better?" Larxene demanded. "Keep a leash on him, Axel."

"Larxene, why on _earth _do you think he'd hurt me?" Naminé asked, bewildered.

"Because I just saw what happened to the core! And you were on shift tonight, and I couldn't find you _anywhere – " _Her distress was growing again. Concerned, a flash of understanding in her eyes, Naminé, to everyone's continued astonishment, wrapped her arms around the woman and hugged her.

"Larxene, explain yourself," DiZ commanded wearily, as they all reseated. "This is no time for histrionics, we have _enough _to deal with."

"I _heard _Leon and Cloud say Roxas trashed Axel's room," she spat. The eyes of all those who didn't already know turned to the blond in surprise and confusion. "So I knew as soon as things went crazy, he had to be behind it _again, _and I knew that Nam was on _duty _tonight, and – "

"I wasn't, though," Naminé broke in softly. "Sora asked me to switch with Roxas early this morning. I was reading in my room when it all started."

Larxene stared at her for a moment. "Oh."

"Yeah, _oh," _Axel hissed. "What do you care about her, anyway? Are you two sharing a bed, or what?"

"She's my _cousin, _you dip-shit," Larxene replied with irritation, calming slowly now that she was certain the blonde girl was perfectly safe. "How fucking slow on the uptake _are _you? Nice to know you pay some fucking _attention _when I speak."

Axel leaned forward, hands spreading wide on the surface, unwilling to forgive or forget anytime soon. "Well, maybe if you weren't such a goddamn – "

"Roxas?" Zexion's voice was soft, uncertain, cutting Axel off in a heartbeat at the concern in it. He twisted with a frown, eyebrows springing up a moment later before drawing together.

"Roxie?"

The blond's chin was touching his chest, shoulders hunched, visibly trembling. Axel reached out to touch his face, Roxas jerking away from the touch, lips pressed together, eyes shimmering with unshed tears. His muscles had hardened under his skin, increasing the level of the shaking. Silence fell among the gathered, and the creaking of the legs of Axel and Roxas' chair became audible as the boy shuddered. "Congratulations, Larx, this time you really _did _fucking break him," Demyx said with a sigh. Axel's head whipped around.

"Shut up," he snapped. He turned back to Roxas, slipping from the teen's knees and crouching beside him. "Roxie, honey? Are you – okay?" He slipped his fingers under Roxas' chin, easing his face up without contest, but the boy refused to look at him, eyes squeezing shut, redness blossoming slowly on the skin around them as the salt-water stained him. Axel breathed a quiet curse, sweeping a thumb over the corner of his clenched eye, before announcing tiredly, "That's it, I've had enough. You guys – you have no idea what Roxie's been going through."

"What, his precious _nightmares?" _Larxene sneered.

"Larxene," Axel said softly, "why don't you," his voice rose on a scale, ending in a bellowed, _"shut the fuck up!" _in her direction. She blinked at his vicious expression. "If you're having fucking problems," he continued to snarl, "why don't you get some fucking _help, _instead of being a _cunt _to Roxas? He's doing his _best, _and no matter what, something _always _comes along to make it _worse." _He stood abruptly, not taking his eyes off the teen. "I'm taking Roxas to bed. He needs it more than anyone. Whatever happens, happens. _Don't _come and get me unless something changes – we are going to be _sleeping." _His brought his gaze up, resting it on DiZ. "Roxas did the best that he knew. Be grateful he was willing to fight so hard. You want things done better, next time do them _yourself." _He bent at the waist, taking Roxas' hands. "Come on, Roxie," he whispered, kissing the boy's head gently. "Let's go get some rest."

The teen allowed himself to be coaxed into standing, the world remaining dark as he continued to keep his eyes clamped shut. He could still feel the twin metal points of the taser digging into his flesh, splitting through his composure like miniature knives. He felt the familiar warmth of Axel's arm around him, leading him from the table, the room, a silence being left in their wake. He could feel the eyes upon him.

Little footsteps followed them in rapid succession, Axel pausing in the hall, scowling down at the wide blue eyes gazing up at him. "I'm sorry for Larxene," Naminé said earnestly, hands knotting together anxiously. "You _know _how she overreacts, Axel – please don't be mad at her."

"How did I not know you guys were cousins?" Axel demanded. Naminé shrugged helplessly.

"Larxene doesn't talk about it much. I remind her of the past too much." She hesitated. "She has nightmares. That's why she'd being hard on Roxas about it – she has them a lot. Usually – it's of me being taken away. I spend a lot of time in her room at night, just – just having to comfort her. It's very upsetting for her. So, please – _please _don't blame her. Tonight just – brought it all up for her again. Especially with – " Her eyes darted sideways to the blond, making Axel glare heavily. " – with the things that have been… happening lately." She stood for a moment, waiting for the redhead to fill the silence that developed, perhaps just acknowledge that she had spoken, but the dislike that had entered him towards her since Roxas had come along was evident, and the hush stretched. At last, Naminé sighed. "Okay, then. I hope – I hope you feel better, Roxas. You – you did really well tonight. You were really brave, just like Demyx said." She smiled sweetly, though the teen couldn't see her. He twitched as she touched his arm in farewell. "Get some sleep."

"That's the plan," Axel said sharply. The girl disappeared back into the hall to rejoin the others. It was a long moment before Axel could tear himself away from the distaste she seemed to inspire these days. He rubbed the blond's arms. "Come on," he murmured. "Let's go."

Roxas followed blindly, concentrating on his breaths, listening to his heartbeat, feeling his head switch between being a weight on his shoulders and growing so light it was nearly drifting off, from one moment to the next. His shoes, the laces of one dragging along the ground, scuffed loudly. He was too tired to lift his feet. At last, the walking stopped. A door was opened, Roxas ushered in. It closed with a low click behind him, an extra noise as it was locked, and a moment later, Axel's hands, his calming touch, were back, as always, moving and brushing and plucking and gentle. "You can open your eyes now," he said quietly. "We're home."

Roxas' eyelashes fluttered up slowly, an almost dizzy sensation descending upon him as he took in the darkness, the dry coolness. His eyes fell on the wall over the bed, realisation hitting him. "This is – your room."

Axel smiled. "Yup. Got it all cleaned up." He made a slight face. "Except for that thing on the wall. Is that – okay? We can find somewhere else if you want…?" Roxas drew in a deep breath, feeling the inner pressure relax a little. He shook his head. Axel was right – this was home. He didn't want to be anywhere else right now.

He could have collapsed on the spot, if Axel hadn't embraced him in that moment, a little of his hot strength flowing into the smaller body of the blond. Roxas buried his nose into the man's sweater, fingers digging into the material and twisting. For a long while, the only thing keeping him standing was Axel's arms, his legs limp, dangling. Axel kissed his forehead, his temple, and half-led, half-carried him to the bed. "It's going to be okay, Rox," he murmured, laying the boy down. He pulled off both their dusty shoes, dropped them to the ground. Roxas immediately writhed over a foot, opening a space for the redhead to follow. Axel lifted one lanky leg and folded himself down onto the mattress, bringing the other around, lying on his uninjured right side and starting to carefully stroke Roxas' hair with the left hand. "You can cry, if you want," he offered. Roxas, eyes closed again, this time from the beautiful, sleepy reassurance of the petting, shook his head minutely.

"I've cried enough," he said huskily. "I'm just… I'm so tired."

Axel leaned forward to kiss him. "Then sleep," he replied simply. "I'll watch over you."

For a long minute there was silence, Roxas' breaths evening out, the redhead thinking he had fallen asleep already. His eyes rose to the eerie writing on the wall, the only piece of damage they hadn't been able to eradicate yet. The floors had been swept and vacuumed, the wardrobe had been hastily patched up, the mattress had been repaired, and new sheets had been lain. He didn't think his room had ever been this clean. Smirking slightly, he lowered his gaze to the supposedly exhausted blond, surprised to see a pair of large blue eyes solemnly watching him. "…Hi," he said.

"I'm sorry," Roxas replied. When Axel frowned, he elaborated quietly, "For the wall. And – everything. I'm sorry for… _everything."_

Axel drew a breath and sighed. "Rox, you've got nothing to be sorry for. You did your best."His hand captured the side of the teen's face, a frown in his brow as he smiled, willing the boy to understand. "You're not to blame."

Roxas' eyes slid to the side, disinclined to agree. "Do you think they'll get to the core in time?" he asked in a small voice. Axel grimaced, a finger coming up to trace patterns on the side of his face.

"I hope so. I don't really know. This… has never happened before." He clutched the boy's chin as a bitter look flashed across his face and added sternly, "That's got nothing to do with what you did, either. It's always been Zanarkand, that's all. Zanarkand soldiers breaking in, doing their damndest to capture the core. No one else really knew or cared about it." He huffed a humourless laugh. "I never realised before now how – honourable it all was. I always thought they were dirty-fighting bastards, but at least they gave us a chance to fight back. Etiquette of the battlefield and all that. I don't think anyone ever expected to have someone waltz in beyond our defences and just – _take _it. It was always understood that – it'd be over our dead bodies, you know?" His grip tightened momentarily, then loosened, rising to brush some hair from the boy's eyes. "But then," he said softly, "no one expected there to be a traitor in our ranks." Pain swam through his eyes briefly. "I liked him a lot. Vaan was my friend… I can't believe he'd do this." Roxas' face creased with regret, but he said nothing. Axel's gaze lost its focus. "I like to think," he said slowly, "that maybe – maybe he waited on purpose." His eyes sharpened on Roxas. "Maybe he let me get you out first… We always got on pretty well, all us original Hollow Bastion people kind of stuck together… So maybe he was – he was letting me save you, knowing how much you meant to me…" His eyebrows drew together. "It's a coincidence, isn't it?" he persisted, almost pleadingly. "That a few weeks after you get out, he finally does it. I mean – these things take time. It wasn't just a spur-of-the-moment decision. So, I mean, who knows? He – he might have…"

Roxas was silent for a moment, before nodded a little. "He might," he said truthfully. "He didn't want me getting hurt. He – he stopped the man from hurting me, even after I hit him with the keyblade… He said – " He met the man's gaze with a frown. "He said it wasn't personal. He just wanted to be free."

Axel's expression relaxed, eyes slipping shut with a sigh. "Yeah. I can hear him saying that." He smiled, green irises reappearing. "Thanks, Roxie."

Roxas' gaze flickered upward. "It's strange to think that this place could be a prison to anyone. Hollow Bastion _is _freedom, to me."

Axel nuzzled him. "Vaan's brother died because of DiZ. At least, that's what he always told me. He was part of the experimental militia, DiZ's first and only attempt at any kind of fighting force – they were obliterated. He always hated it here after that, even though he stayed…" He frowned slightly, pausing. "That happened because someone betrayed them. Strange to think that he would end up taking the path of a traitor."

Roxas shrugged a little, curling closer. "I guess you never know what desperation can drive you to… He really – he _really, really _wanted it, that's all I know."

"He'd better have," the redhead sighed. "I hope it was a hard decision, and I hope he feels like shit. He just threw away his entire life to become a goddamn _pirate. _It – had better be worth it." He gripped Roxas suddenly, wrapping a leg around the boy's hip, pushing his nose into the blond's shoulder. "I can't even think about what would have happened if you weren't out yet," he said, an element of panic constricting his vocal cords. "I – I'd have lost my mind. I'd have hunted him down."

"…He wouldn't have understood," Roxas muttered. "He doesn't consider them real. He'd have told you _I _wasn't real. As long as they're in the simulation, they don't count, as far as he's concerned." He shivered briefly. "Am I more real now? Was I – not real before? Why – why does being here make me any different than – when I was _there?" _

"It doesn't," Axel said firmly, drawing back, meeting his eyes. "You're real here, you were real there. Vaan's a dick if he thinks that." He laughed bitterly. "Shit, you can tell he never lost anyone to the program, can't you?"

Roxas searched his gaze for a moment, before nodding slowly. "I guess you can." Axel grimaced, leaned in and kissed him.

"Don't look at me like that, Rox," he muttered. "Don't look like you don't know if you're _real _or not, for Christ's sake. You're real – you're _here." _That same panic that had been in his voice before entered his eyes, just an edge, common sense battling it, but not quite able to keep it at bay. "Don't start thinking you're not real, _please. _If you weren't real – I – I wouldn't know what I was even here for."

Roxas snorted lightly. "You'd be here for Kairi," he reminded the redhead. "And Demyx."

"You think so, do you?" Something burned in Axel's eyes, something almost disconcerting in its intensity. He glared down at Roxas. "You really think I'd have bothered hanging on, if you weren't around?"

Roxas blinked, shook his head slowly. "Axel – we were just _kids. _How did – how did this last your whole life long?"

"Because… you were perfect," Axel answered, with a frown. "When I first saw you in the system – I was maybe ten, or eleven – you were just – you were _perfect, _Roxas. You were my friend. My best friend. I watched you grow up, practically, and – and whenever I'd gone and whored myself out, I'd end up sitting in the lab watching you for hours on end, kicking out whoever was on duty… Just to remind myself that my life wasn't stupid and worthless. It had a _purpose – _and that purpose was _you, _Rox. If you hadn't been around to give me that, I don't think I would've bothered. Do you have any idea what the suicide rate was around here for a few years? Hanging bodies, left, right, and centre… People without _purpose…"_

Roxas shuddered a little, tucking his chin in, closing his eyes to block the thought of Axel being among those ranks. The redhead was silent for a moment, before whispering, _"Please. _Please, Roxas, open your eyes." Roxas swallowed, eyelashes rising without thought. They were nose to nose, staring. "You _are_ real – aren't you?" There was almost – dread in his tone. As if Roxas was going to answer negatively, and then simply fade out of existence. In anticipation of such an event, his grip tightened around the blond, leg shifting slightly around his hip. However, Roxas smiled weakly. "I think so."

"You _think _so?" Axel's eyes narrowed. He suddenly grabbed a handful of blond spikes, tugging sharply, making Roxas gasp. "Was that real? Did it feel real?" Before the teen could even object or respond, he shifted his hand down to the boy's hip, slipped under his shirt and pinched hard, almost cruelly. It was so close to the site of the other pains, and coming from such an unexpected source, that tears sprang involuntarily to Roxas' eyes. "Was _that _real, Rox?" Roxas drew in a breath of protest, ready to tell him to knock it off, but again, Axel didn't bother to wait for an answer before continuing. He shifted his hips away from the blond's, yanked open the top button of Roxas' jeans, thrust his hand inside the boy's boxers and squeezed. Roxas' head thrust back, hips jerking forward, a startled, gasping moan escaping. Axel paused at last, eyes narrowing. His fingers tightened fractionally, making the blond squirm. "Well, Roxas? What about this? Does it feel _real?"_

Hazy blue eyes met green, a film of sweat over his brow, lips parted. He croaked, "That – felt – real." A hard smirk appeared on the redhead's lips, thinning them. But when, a moment later, Roxas breathlessly added, "I love you, Axel," the man's expression faltered.

"You're not going to – leave me, are you?" Roxas shook his head sharply.

"Why – the _fuck – _would I go anywhere without _you?"_

Axel stared for a long moment, then leaned in for a kiss. He started kneading the semi-hard erection in his hands, making Roxas grunt and sigh, muscles shivering. The kiss was hard, and deep, his tongue delving deep into the blond's mouth. Roxas, overcome by sensation, bulldozed by the force behind each administration, helplessly responded, feeling as though, any moment, he would simply shatter and be absorbed by the power of Axel's wants and needs.

Axel pushed him slightly, so he was on his back, and slung himself onto the blond's thighs without ever breaking either contact. Roxas was writhing slowly beneath him, whimpering softly into his mouth, a white haze enveloping the world, taking his eyes rolling back. And then, just as sharply as it all had begun, Axel's hand withdrew from his pants, lips pulling away, leaving Roxas sweating and trembling. "A-Axel – "

"I'm sorry," the man murmured. "That was – mean of me. I shouldn't have started off like that… I'm sorry."

"Axel?"

The redhead tugged his sweater off in a couple of short motions, threw it to the ground, then lowered himself down onto his elbows, keeping his weight off the injured ribs, face hovering over the blond's. "I'll do it properly this time." His lips met Roxas', soft, gentle, loving. It was like stepping from icy cold water into hot – or – or maybe the other way around. It was – a shock, going from one extreme to the next. Roxas barely knew where his head was, or his body. They been separated and thrown into opposite sides of a pool. Axel's lips caressed his own, tongue this time used to coax, to brush, to dip and pleasure, rather than just – just needfully plundering. His hands roamed freely down the blond's body, swimming small circles over any flesh that had been revealed by his increasingly rumpled shirt, touch burning like the hot metal of a lighter, searing invisibly against Roxas' skin. This time, Roxas was able to participate, and returned the exploration, fingers trailing beneath the redhead's shirt, the semi-familiar planes of his stomach, his ribs, finding his nipples and stroking them. Axel occasionally shivered, a minute moan spilling from his lips. Sometimes, they would break apart, foreheads crushed together, noses pressing, and regain their breath, hands always moving.

Axel dropped his face into Roxas' throat, tongue dragging across the skin, while he reached back and grabbed the shoulders of his t-shirt, yanking and tugging until it was around his neck. He lifted his head briefly, both of them snatching the material away. Roxas dropped it to the ground, and they were kissing again. It took only a minute for the blond's top to follow, Axel sitting back on his crotch, making him groan, taking hold of the hem and dragging it slowly upward, revealing each inch of flesh with agonising anticipation. He hesitated as the bruising came into view, a repulsive purple-blue maelstrom where the shotgun had stabbed into him. He paused the removal, lowered and kissed the area tenderly, Roxas grunting slightly at the pain even this light touch brought. Carefully avoiding it, Axel straightened and finished his task, pulling the offending material away, smiling at the mess it left the blond's spikes in. He eased down, skin on skin, chests pressed together. Roxas wrapped his arms around the man, tugging him closer still, uncaring of the pain it brought. They kissed, wet noises filling the room, before Axel moved around to his ear and whispered hoarsely, "Now the pants – you're a bastard for ever wearing any."

Roxas' answering giggle was cut off, lip bitten as Axel went straight to task, climbing off him, leaving him feeling too light and empty for the brief second it took for the redhead's hands to find his jeans and just start shoving. In moments, there was nothing touching his skin at all. There was a quick rustling, the sound of a zipper, and the next time that Axel climbed atop him, there was only skin, skin and nothing, skin and _heat. _He started to lift his head, flung it back down to the pillow a second later as Axel's mouth slid over his erection, tongue spreading down the tight flesh. _"Fuck." _One hand slid between his thighs, spreading them apart while the redhead sucked and kissed. As a finger entered him a minute later, he gasped a little, letting out a startled noise. There was a pause as Axel lifted his face, licking his lips, saying hoarsely, "It's okay… I'm just showing you how it feels… You'll like it – just relax, Roxie."

"_Axel's _Roxie," the boy moaned in correction, as Axel's head descended once more, his limbs shivering as the sucking resumed, the finger continuing. It was a foreign sensation, almost disturbing, _almost _distracting him from the intense pleasure that burst through every nerve. He could feel the digit moving inside him, squirming deeper. He tried to relax, like Axel had told him to, telling himself that things were going to be okay – there was a rise of nervousness – but then – _"Oh, fuck." _The fingertip touched his prostate a second time, and Roxas gave a breathy scream, soft but pure. Axel's mouth left him, a low chuckle coming at the whimper of loss as the finger also withdrew. _"Axel…"_

"Ssh, it's okay," the man whispered. He dragged his body up along Roxas', both of them moaning, and planted a kiss on the teen's mouth. "It's lucky I'm always prepared, huh?" he panted.

"What?" Roxas barely even heard the words, was hardly able to utter one back, tongue pressing thickly to the roof of his mouth. Axel reached under the pillow, kissing the blond as he went, pulling out a small tube of lubricant.

"Love you, Roxie."

"Love… you…"

He drew back again, squeezing some of the fluid onto one hand and rubbing them together to spread it, warm it. A moment later, his palm was sliding up and down Roxas' shaft, spreading the oil evenly, the boy shaking and gasping at the incredible contact. The bottle was tossed aside for now, hitting the ground with a low clatter. Axel, fingers slick, crawled up the teen's body, leaving marks on the sheet. He lowered his mouth onto Roxas', then eased down onto the teen's erection, at first just touching it, then pressing down, filling himself slowly. Roxas let out a strangled cry through his teeth. For a brief moment, his eyes cleared, locking on the green ones. "Doesn't… that – hurt?"

"Rather me than you," the man murmured. A small smile fluttered onto his face, head shaking a little. "And no – I – I prepared myself… it just feels…" He seated himself, sucking in a shivering breath, lowered his chest to Roxas', mouth against the boy's collar. "It feels like you."

Roxas fell back into the crystal haze as, after a minute, Axel began to rock, carefully at first, then with growing power. Their gasps and moans filled the room, bouncing off the walls, breaths intermingling, choked cries escaping one mouth to be swallowed by the other. _"Roxas…"_

The blond's hands found Axel's thighs and grabbed hold, nails scratching up and down the skin as they moved together. The meat of his right palm kept brushing a thick rope of flesh, fingertips finding it and teasing it unconsciously, running along it in rhythm with their motions. Axel made a keening noise, high and desperate, bending down close, fixing his mouth on Roxas' jaw and starting up a steady suction, hands massaging his chest.

"_I love you," _Roxas whimpered out, head twisting from side to side, sweat slick between their bodies. Axel's teeth scraped him, a long, low moan exiting his throat. His motions quickened, driving himself down three more times with a cry, before ejaculating sharply. He ground his hips down violently, eliciting a shrill breath from the blond, who followed suit bare moments later, body shaking and jerking, chest rising, heels digging into the mattress as his hands clutched one last time at the redhead's legs.

There was long, silent moment in which neither of them breathed, riding the last of the sensation until it lessened. Then suddenly Axel flopped onto him, hands jamming behind his head, pulling him close for a deep, long kiss. As they parted, he gasped, _"Thank you. _Oh, my God, thank you for being _real."_

He fell slowly off the blond, wishing he could stay but mindful of injuries, lying beside him, shoulder aching badly from the exertion, everything else simply humming. Roxas remained on his back for a long while, regaining his breath, feeling the sweat cool and trickle. The covers were damp with semen, around and beneath him. Axel clumsily gathered the sheet and mopped them both off, collecting as much of the mess as he could, that which hadn't already been absorbed into the mattress. As Roxas' eyelids flickered shut, he balled it up and tossed it away onto the ground. He reached down with a grunt, grabbing hold of the blanket, pulling it up over the blond's body, kissing the boy's forehead sloppily. "Don't want you getting cold…" Roxas cracked open an eye, utterly relaxed, at peace for the first time in days, and smiled. He shook his head, lifted a corner and gestured with his head.

"It's big enough for two, you know." Axel grinned wearily, yanked it over his own bare skin and settled beside the blond. Roxas yawned, turning onto his side, throwing an arm around the redhead's waist, a leg around his leg, twining them together with an easy, lazy intimacy he hadn't previously possessed. His heart had slowed to its regular rate, and then a little less, as he drowsily pressed his clammy face into Axel's neck. The green eyes were shut, an equally tranquil expression drawn pleasantly across the man's features. Roxas' hand brushed slowly up and down his thigh. "…Axel…?"

"Mm."

"What's this line…?" He traced a few fingers along the fleshy rope.

"Mm." Axel nestled his mouth into Roxas' hair, so that when he spoke, the vibrations of his voice travelled down into the teen's scalp. "'Member when I told you – about getting hurt when I was younger? When you first started learning to fight…?"

"Mm?"

He shifted his hand under the cover, placed it over Roxas', drawing them both along the line. "This is what happened… The guy…" A yawn. "The guy split my leg open to the bone, destroyed a couple muscles, shattered the bone. It still twinges during rainy weather, but I did some therapy, got it back to almost normal."

"Almost?"

"Mm. It was always… just a little weaker… after that." His smiled. "'M all better now, though. It was a long time ago." He kissed the boy's head. "I'm here with you now."

Roxas curled up beside him, eyes sliding shut at last, no longer able to fight the pull of sleep. "I love you, Axel."

"I'll always love you, Axel's Roxie's Roxie," the redhead mumbled. "Forever and ever…"

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The swing-set was swallowed, a fierce wind whipping, a howl in the air, the ground crumbling away, bright, blinding white filling the small universe of the playground. Roxas was crushed against the invisible wall, screaming, hammering his fists back against it. It didn't part for him, didn't slide him through at the last moment, into the safety of the darkness – instead, the last inches of sand dissolved from under him, and Roxas fell. He fell into the light, his mother's embrace, felt her claws dig deep into his brain, into his soul, and be sucked into his lungs. There _was _no playground, there was _nothing. _

Eventually, slowly, Roxas' wailing lessened. It faded away. He found himself filled with voices, some louder, others whispering. Then came one, more powerful than the rest, wiping them easily aside and settling down between his ears.

_Mother has been waiting for you to return. It is time, darling son, for you to be my rescuer. Mother will show you the way to go._

And Roxas said, "Okay."

-------

Roxas opened his eyes, and looked at Axel. The redhead was sleeping soundly, features slack. He smiled gently, and kissed his nose. "You're such a good boy." He sat up, pushing back the covers, stood awkwardly with a hand on the wall, trying to move without waking the slumberer up. He crept to the end of the bed, mattress sinking under his weight, and clambered carefully down from the end, bare feet touching the cold floor. "Clothes," he muttered, shivering slightly. He located them, pulled them on, slid his feet into his shoes, lacing them tightly. He hesitated. He would need weapons, but the keyblades had been confiscated… He glanced around the room, messy now with the redhead's few items of clothing, the soiled sheet. Frowning, Roxas went over to the wardrobe, pulling the doors open in search of the man's chakrams.

Imagine his surprise, when he found his father's keyblades sitting within, propped against the wooden back beside Axel's wheels. "Hello," he said. He drew them out with a smile, admiring them for a moment. "We prefer these to the ones the good boy made," he decided. "He is very, very good, but these are older, better remembered."

His voice made Axel stir on the bed, drawing his attention over. Roxas frowned slightly. He glanced around, found the man's jeans, bent and dug through each pocket until he located the key to the door. Smirking, he went over and unlocked it, balancing one keyblade against the wall. "Tried to keep us in, huh? A good boy, definitely, but not necessarily the most clever." He turned to smile affectionately at the redhead. A twitch started up beside his left eye, a second commencing at the corner of his mouth a moment later. "The good boy… he will try to follow us." He sighed, frowned for a moment. "He will be the first to notice we are gone. He will come looking for us." He headed back towards the bed, staring down at the long-limb, naked figure. There was a small crease between the red brows, the slumber not so peaceful with the constant murmur of Roxas' voice in the background. There was part of him programmed to wake up at the sound of it.

Roxas' head snapped briefly to one side, shoulder jerking up, before easing down into placidity again. "You're such a good boy," he smiled. His eyes went to one bare leg, the one that was marred with the pink-white stripe of raised flesh up towards the hip. He nodded to himself. "You see? Mother is _always _right. The left leg, just like she said." His head whipped back sharply, neck cracking loudly, eyes wide. But then, just as quickly if not more smoothly, his chin lowered back down, the smile returning. Roxas lifted up his father's keyblades, stepping back a little from the bed. He lined them up, before placing one beside the bed, on the ground. "Better to use one. Roxas has more power in his arms that way."

He turned slightly to one side, swung the keyblade over his right-hand shoulder, measuring and calculating quickly with his eyes. "Hmm." His muscles readied themselves, then spasmed. His torso snapped down, doubling over with a gasp, the motion upsetting the spare keyblade so that it clattered onto its side. Axel's eyes flickered, almost opened. Roxas scowled, shook himself straight. "Behave now," he muttered, scolding. He hefted the keyblade once more, paused, as if to see if there would be any further dissent, then nodded once. His grip tightened, shoulders hardening, and the keyblade swung down with every ounce of strength that could be summoned.

Axel woke up, and screamed deafeningly, a bare moment after the awful splitting noise filled the room. Agony tore from his throat in an almost _endless _howl, making Roxas scowl. Others would be alerted at this rate. He stepped away from the bed, the motion catching the redhead's attention. The terrible shrieking was muted at the sight of Roxas, calm with his bloodied keyblade. _"Roxas!" _It came out as a shrill whisper, face white-grey, pupils like new moons, the green scarcely evident.

"You mustn't follow us," the blond said reasonably. "You're a very, very good boy, though – Roxas' love is such a _good _boy. He always took such _good _care of mother, even if only to protect Roxas." He smiled. "Mother is sorry for the pain. Roxas is even sorrier." He gagged suddenly, bending forward, nearly choking on his own tongue, a squirt of bile shooting onto the floor. He coughed several times, calming down, standing tall again. Axel's eyes were rolling in his skull, his narrow chest rising and falling erratically. "We say good-bye now," the blond said. "Roxas has to rescue mother – and others, of course. Mother has many children still, all needing saving."

He turned to leave. Axel took a deep breath, screamed, _"ROXAS!" _

The blond continued, hearing the wails grow hysterical in his wake as he left the room, travelled the halls. Eventually, they faded, those tortured, broken, half-mad noises. He had left one keyblade behind, but that didn't matter, really. One would be sufficient.

He left the castle by one of the lesser-known entrances, and walked on through the night.


	40. Chapter 40

**A/N: **Hiiii everyone! I swear, I didn't expect this to get done today. This _totally _counts as a daily-update, because this morning I had one page and one _half _of a page, and now I have a grand total of twelve. YES! OLD HABITS! I assure you, it was sheer terror that motivated me :D I'm incredibly sorry to those reviews I haven't ended up replying to this time, I got snowed under D: It ended up as a choice between replying, and doing the chapter, and I figured you'd prefer this to another dose of my rambling in your inbox (not that I don't get that done quite nicely in the AN's). Also, just getting in first, the switching between 'he', 'she' and 'they' is all deliberate :D

AND TO WHOEVER IT WAS THAT ASKED ME ABOUT PEANUT BUTTER, COZ MY MEMORY SUCKS AND I'VE FORGOTTEN, YES, AUSTRALIANS EAT PEANUT BUTTER! I PERSONALLY HAVE BEEN SUBSISTING OFF PEANUT BUTTER TOAST FOR THE PAST FOUR DAYS! …I REALLY, REALLY NEED TO GO SHOPPING.

AND JUST TO CONTINUE BEING IRRITATING A LITTLE WHILE LONGER (coz I'm good at it) YESTERDAY WAS OUR TU TWOOOO MONTH ANNIVERSARYYYYYYY!!!! YOU KNOW I DIDN'T FORGET BABY, I WAS JUST, I WAS JUST, PLANNING THIS FOR A SURPRISE!

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CHAPTER FORTY

There was no playground. This was the nightmare now – simply breathing was the nightmare. Mother had come, she had commandeered Roxas – and now he was lost. There was barely anything left of him, just mother's voice within his skull, her shadow within his. Their steps took them over rough ground, away from the road. It wouldn't do to follow such a clear path like that, mother knew they would be easily discovered. The earth here was mossy and rocky, steep in places. They found themselves using Roxas' father's keyblade as a slicing implement, covering the red human blood staining the blunt side with young amber tree blood on the teeth as they pushed their way through the foliage. Mother cared little for either type, so long as it meant their progress wasn't slowed any more than necessary. The seed that Roxas had been reduced to within his own skull howled in a distracting manner, but it wasn't conscious. For the most part, Roxas and Jenova melded together co-operatively. Their feet moved steadily, picking their way through the mountains, heading ever downward.

In one of her final lucid moments, mother had attempted to show Roxas to the place she knew he would need to go in order to retrieve her. He had battled that, though, fallen victim to the illness the bad boy for so long had been poisoning her with. It had spread from her to him in the remaining twisted programming that remained as a direct result of the interference. It was ironic, she sensed, that the only reason she had a chance of salvation at all was through the mutation of those few lingering cells of biological technology that could not be competently purged due to core efficiency being lowered.

As a result of that brief dream, both Roxas and the ghost of mother that clung to him knew that the location she was being abducted to was well within the city. However, since she had been removed from her place of power, no further information could be exchanged between them. Roxas and mother would have to use that which had been supplied and extrapolate from there. Roxas, being the less knowledgeable of the two, was forced to resign more control to her than was perhaps sensible for either of them, but Jenova had to be found. The information she had been bleeding to Tron would not be enough for the good children to extract a suitable conclusion from in time to prevent the bad boy from disabling Twilight Town forever.

It was some hours later that they finally reached the last ridge, Hollow Bastion almost close enough to touch from here. The Bailey entrance was far from this point of access, there was low chance of discovery by pertinent personalities.

Roxas' flesh was covered in nicks and bruises, blood streaking some sections of his unprotected arms. His clothing was heavily torn in places, stretched out of shape and damp with sweat. There was a section that noticed Roxas' pain, but he was coping well enough for them to easily continue. They clambered down the steep embankment, slipping every now and then, but Jenova knew enough to discern that any injuries Roxas had received were not in any way overly hindering. Though sometimes the keyblade was used for support, generally the efficiency of Roxas' physical body was running at a reasonable seventy-eight or so percent.

They entered the city cautiously. To remain unseen was a simple feat – they had arrived close to the devastation of the war, the crumbling, broken-down monuments empty of most but animal life. The destination in mother's mind was close to here, a base to begin from. Their path took them through several of the old, cracked streets. The time estimated to have elapsed by now was roughly four hours in total, from the moment that Roxas had capitulated. This made it close to half-past four in the morning. It would not be long before Hollow Bastion began to wake.

Roxas and mother paused at the edge of the playground, the beginning of their search, both reluctant to enter, as though to do so would snap the invisible walls back in place behind them. He eyed it uncertainly. "No longer sacred," he mumbled, edging away. Then he sighed, head shaking briefly. "Foolishness. Mother must be found." He glanced around, started off down the road, following the way they had taken last time, before the dreamscape had been consumed through disease and necessity. Roxas recognised the surroundings, mother remembering vague flutters of thought processes that had occurred at the time. It was frustrating to be cut off from the core this way, to know that she was so close, all the children were, but so far out of reach.

The further into Hollow Bastion they got, the more familiar things seemed. Roxas felt directions flicking through his mind. _This way. _Mother had realised where they were heading. Logic dictated it as the only sensible location in the area for the thieves. Streetlights came into view, illuminating the way, the city brightening with their glare. The figure of the tousle-haired blond shifted quickly along the footpath, with area-knowledge he wouldn't ordinarily have possessed. He had the keyblade cradled in his arms, eyes switching between darting about, suspicious of the shadows, and simply staring with a dull glaze. His steps scuffed and stumbled, muscles quickly losing their strength.

_Roxas must hurry. When the sun comes, the core goes. All of the children will be lost. Mother will be lost. _

"I know," he breathed, eyes blinking slowly. "I know, mom."

The lights grew brighter. In a couple more hours, this area would no doubt be filled with traffic, human and vehicular, but at this point, the roads were deserted.

_This is the place._

Roxas drew to a stop. They were on the opposite end of town to where they'd started off. This was absolute edge of Hollow Bastion – beyond the buildings here, a sheer drop into a valley, before the next rise of mountain. He didn't recognise the purpose of this place, but Jenova did. _They will fly from here. You must retrieve the core before they are able to leave. _

The main doors to the building were locked tight. Roxas spent five minutes rattling and shaking them, ignored by the darkness within. The urge burst through him to simply shatter the glass with the keyblade, but mother stamped down on the action, cut his limbs short before they could follow through on the thought. Whatever control Roxas had slowly been reeling back was snatched away, Jenova hooking through once again to take the majority. They stepped back, calm again, looking left, right. There was a long, high fence to one side of the broad building. They nodded. "That is the way to go. We feel the children in the darkness." They started walking, elegant, drifting steps, distinctly feminine. "Mother senses her children." They reached the fence, sturdy chain-link, lined with ravels of barbed wire, warning signs plastered every several feet, all of which were dispassionately observed, then ignored as the boy's blue eyes rose up to observe the cutting coils. "Roxas will be hurt," he mused. "But only to thirty-percent of his body, if we are careful. There is a chance he will not need medical attention." A finger was outstretched, wrapping around a length of the icy-cold, stiff wire of the links. "Too durable for cutting. We will climb." He tipped his head back. "Up." The keyblade was flipped over one shoulder, fingers hooking through the links in a broad, messy circle, one toe inserting into one of the many small gaps, and Roxas began to clamber. It took longer than it should have, due to the keyblade, but they simply couldn't afford to let it go. In this case, current heightened efficiency would end up, in later stages, creating difficulties that were unsurpassable. They _must _be able to defend themselves, and if necessary, take the core by force. This was their only chance – Roxas was the only line of defence. If he failed, the core would be irretrievably lost. Mother knew this. She had seen it.

The sound of metal clinking on metal filled the air, the fluid sound of motion travelling through the thousands of links, jerking with every ascended foot that Roxas and mother hauled themselves up. It was only a few short minutes of sweating before they reached the apex, the curled barbs only an inch from Roxas' knuckles. He leaned back as far as his damaged body would allow, both of them ignoring the blatant stabbing from within the torso region. Gathering the strength of his muscles, Roxas wound up, threw the keyblade in a high arc. It almost didn't make it – too much vertical, not enough horizontal, an acknowledged risk considering how close they had taken themselves to the blocking coils. But it had been too high to achieve from the ground, and so they had to simply calculate and estimate that it would be sufficient. Fortunately, as the blade fell, it hit the far side of the wire, flipped sideways, and clattered noisily to the tarmac on the other side.

Nodding in satisfaction, Roxas' hands, both free now, easier because of it, reached up and wrapped around the piercing hooks of wire. When they dragged his body up, his palms were stabbed deeply, blood running freely down his wrists within moments. Tears sprang involuntarily to the blue eyes, mother noting it all with vague amounts of interest, while Roxas retreated into the harbour of her indifference, allowing her to perform the least time-consuming ascent without distraction. The blood-flow thickened, the meat torn apart, shoulders catching, material briefly snaring and then, with an impatient jerk, ripping away. One foot found the bar of the fence, steady ground for once. The denim of his jeans was clawed as she attempted to pull the other leg to follow. One miscalculated wrench, and Roxas was falling, ramming to a halt bare seconds later, the shock followed by a piercing scream. It took several moments for either of them to make sense of why the world was upside down. When realisation came, Roxas couldn't help but let out a deep-throated moan. They were dangling seven feet above the cement held only by the barbs that had tangled through into his thigh. In among the tingling that denoted hideous pain to come, there was a new spread of warmth. More of his blood was being spilled this night than either of them had ever experienced. Mother felt concern, knowing her son to be injured. She started to move, was halted by him, the sharp motion making them jolt, the barbs ripping that little bit more through his flesh. Tears streamed down toward earth, across his eyebrows, into his hair. Small whimpers escaped his lips, teeth grating together, face scrunching up. Very nearly, in that moment, Roxas took back control. Self-preservation was screaming, and mother found herself struggling against it. She whispered soothingly to him, _Roxas must be calm. Mother will ensure success. Darling son, let mother make it better._

A sharp breath was inhaled, and Jenova was back in control, stomach muscles working, piercing pain from his ribs as she pulled his upper body around and reached up, slipping fingers through links, getting a firm grip. Panic bolted through Roxas, made him cry out, "No, _wait!" _

She tore them free, leaving strips of skin on the barbs, blood blossoming rapidly along his jeans, dampening them, making the material cling to his skin. The salty smell billowed up and out, sickening, laced with metal and a faint sweetness. There was no scream this time, from Roxas. Just numb silence. He retreated further still, frightened to remain too close to the surface, where the burning resided, where it clawed and snarled and ripped with teeth and talons, ready to send him into a dead faint. Left solely in control, mother lowered them to the ground, pausing for a moment to assess the damage. It was bad, there was little room for doubt about that. But the limb was still working, Roxas' heart-rate sharply elevated but not yet into a dangerous zone. There was sweat popping out all across his body, despite the sudden chill that seized it as the blood rushed away from the skin to better nourish the lungs and brain. She could still work with this.

She limped over to the keyblade, reached down with blood-slick hands and picked it up, ignoring the jolts of pain through the nerve-endings in his palms as the ragged flesh tightened around the steel. They turned, eyes sweeping the new landscape. There was a large hangar nearby, where the majority of airships were stored between flying hours. The one she knew the bad boy to be within belonged to private owners. That hangar was smaller, better guarded on the outside, but once inside, they would have little trouble.

Roxas' shoes slapped wetly across the pavement, a trail of red prints left in their wake as she hurried them cautiously to where the faint throb of power exuded from the core. The closer they got, the more powerful it resonated within them. The leftover programming within Roxas felt home closer than ever. For too long, the bad boy's disease had confused this section of Roxas. It had been designed to separate the core from Twilight Town with subtlety, so as not to alert the good children to his intentions – this had resulted in the programming, at Roxas' first reuniting, to act upon that impulse with the sort of enthusiasm only the young can possess, attempting to open the core's trapping walls and free it. But that was over now – mother had been stolen, the virus no longer had a target. The remainder of Jenova within him was clearer-thinking, even if cut off from her main stream of consciousness. She felt it near, though. Soon, there would no longer be the separation.

Roxas' steps stumbled briefly, frustrating weakness. Jenova paused, threads delving deeper into him, tightening. They resumed movement, smooth again. Roxas was a shadow at the back of his mind. Mother took them skittering around the dark edges of the lot, keeping the buildings in view, ears sharp for sounds of discovery, of threat. Their eyes caught sight of motion, too far away to be hazardous at this point, but rapid relocation would be required if they continued to linger out here. The hangar was closer now, the pulse of life that echoed weakly around the disconnected core singing to them both. Roxas' programming felt the tug of the tide, the urge to become one with itself again, just as it should have the first time he came in contact with it after his removal from Twilight Town. It was an agitated sensation, ready to become frenzied if given the opportunity.

"_Okay, Roxie, now whatever happens, just remember that you're here now, okay? Twilight Town is just a program."_

"_I think I'm pretty aware of that now, Axel. I'm not going to try and crawl through the screen."_

"_Don't laugh. It's been attempted."_

"…_What, really?"_

Roxas approached the engineers' entrance to the hangar, down towards the back of the building, a small light burning above it, red. Mother's cells swirled, assessing the technology keeping the door locked. There was a keypad, the correct code necessary, with a chance of security being alerted if the sequence was incorrect… There was danger here of discovery. Roxas' hand lowered, hesitated, finger extending to slowly press down, one button after another. A minute shock zapped his finger with each depression, making his eyelashes flutter, his teeth clench unconsciously together. In this corporeal version of reality, Jenova had little power over her surroundings, not when compared to the vastness of an entire town, thousands of children to be nurtured according to their parents' personalities… but she still was able to manipulate to a slight degree. The code was utterly incorrect. The chances of either she or Roxas randomly generating the right sequence was almost infinite in its impossibility, but each tiny pulse from their finger destroyed a small amount of the technology each time, until there was too little to recall its purpose. The light went green, red, white, red, then green again, and flickered for a moment. They opened the door and stepped through before it decided on a whim to lock. Planning to use the same exit when leaving, they left it ajar slightly, so that in its confused, mindless state it wouldn't jam and seal them within.

Roxas and mother were inside the hangar. Halogen tubes threw out weak puddles of light in places, black pooling everywhere else. In here, there was little risk of discovery. Nobody was about, the few gathered, privately-owned airships dim and unoccupied. They moved quickly across the ground, the saturation on Roxas' thigh growing cold, shining even in the low-level illumination. The stench followed them. Their grip on the keyblade was growing firmer as the blood-flow congealed with the minutes, becoming sticky, no longer hot and slick. Roxas' heart-rate was fluttering, but effective. No doubt shock was affecting him. The chemical clash between the adrenaline and endorphins would keep him going for a while yet.

Now that they were here, they could hear the core, the silence in her voice louder than their own steps. They jogged over to the source, a small airship with the word _Strahl _painted across its hull. Roxas paused, eyes narrowing, keyblade lowering slightly. The door was too high to reach without elevation of some sort. They reached out, pressing a hand to the ship, the steel cold. "We wish you would open for us," Roxas said, frustrated. "You hold our whole within you, foolish transportation." They drew back, leaving a stark red print against the grey. The keyblade rose, poking the hull ineffectively, letting out a dull ringing sound that echoed and reverberated through the large space of the hangar. Much to their surprise, a light flashed out of the cockpit window. Roxas ducked back into the shadows curiously, eyes fixed upon the small circle of yellow that peered sightlessly out. It was a hand-torch. It had evidently been directed elsewhere, but the noise had startled its owner into attempting to see the exterior of the ship. Roxas hunkered under the belly of the ship, processing this. The bad boy was within the transportation, then. Keeping mother safe until dawn.

The keyblade was suddenly heavy in their hands, the idea occurring calmly. Roxas' muscles bunched, and a moment later, the blade was driven up into the ship with an almighty clang. It scarcely even scratched the metal, but no doubt the noise was even more pronounced within the ship than it had been in this echoing space. There was a burst of activity from above, footsteps, voices. Lights were switched on within the vehicle. Neither Roxas nor mother were certain how many people were within. A minute later, the unreachable door opened, a set of stairs descending mechanically. Roxas shifted around to the back of the ship, slightly more out of sight, as two people exited the transportation.

"Who's there?" A male voice, recognised by Roxas, though not mother.

"Show yourself!" Female, unusual accent, not familiar to either. Now was the time to act, before they were able to gather their wits in time to perform a search and subsequent attack. Roxas walked boldly out, keyblade held low, swung up and smashed the weapon into the side of the man's leg. A howl of pain, a shouted curse, an elbow whipping around faster than anticipated to crack into Roxas' face, sending him crashing to the floor before mother could seize enough control to keep him upright. The keyblade clattered out of their hand, out of reach, some stunned section of each of them unable to recover in a sufficient amount of time to continue the assault. Either way, it would be futile, they realised. The man and woman approached, he holding a shotgun, she a bow with arrow poised and ready to release. Her appearance was unusual to them both – high rabbit's ears on a human? This was met with blankness. The man was little more than limping – mother had overestimated the remaining strength in Roxas' arms. The shotgun wielder's gaze narrowed with recognition.

"Vaan. _Vaan! _Get out here, _now!"_

And there was the bad boy. Roxas' eyes fell upon him, becoming slits, lips peeling back from teeth in a hissing, silent snarl. _"You." _

He was descending the steps, determination and irritation becoming bewilderment. He faltered, eyes widening. "…Roxas?"

"_Where's – mother?" _they demanded in answer, features contorted in rage. "Give us _mother!"_

"What in the _blazes _is he _doing _here?" Balthier demanded savagely, the gun-barrel bare inches from the temptation of simply jamming it into the bloodied blond's face. Vaan blinked in confusion, and the man uttered a vicious curse. "Get him aboard. _Now, _Vaan!"

The teen jumped to the ground, the sword he'd carried out discarded beside the steps. He approached Roxas, incredulity mixing with horror as the boy's appearance was fully appreciated. "Holy _shit, _Roxas," he breathed. "What – what _happened _to you?" He bent to grab the blond's arms, and suffered a kick to his stomach as reward.

"_The bad boy will not touch us," _he yelled, fury lacing every inch of his expression.

"Vaan, do _not _make me tell you again," Balthier growled, pausing at the base of the steps. The teen was doubled over, gasping for air. "Get him in_side."_

"No!" Roxas shouted, thrashing as a wincing Vaan made a second attempt. "Mother will not let the bad boy sicken us further! _Do not touch us!"_

"For the love of – " Balthier stomped back towards them, shoving the gun into the white-blond's arms. "Please, try not to shoot your foot in the next two minutes," he snapped. He leaned down, gathered Roxas' struggling figure and threw it deftly over one shoulder. He turned on the spot and marched back to the ship, ascending the stairs behind Fran, Vaan following with a scowl, retrieving his sword.

Roxas was thrown onto the floor, kicked to the side as a button was pressed to recall the stairs and seal the door shut once again. Balthier snatched the shotgun from Vaan, loaded it sharply, and pointed it down into the boy's filthy face. "Alright, I'm giving you to count of three to tell me how you found us. If your answer is in _any way _unsatisfactory, the darling _Strahl _will be due for an interior clean because of the _splatters _on the _walls."_

"Mother doesn't recognise you," Roxas said defiantly. "She will not speak to you, and nor will Roxas! We keep our silence until the core is recovered!"

"That's _one." _

"How did you follow us here?" the woman demanded stridently, tossing her head.

"We desire the core, _now! _You cannot keep mother from her children!"

"And _two," _Balthier warned, aiming more accurately.

"Wait!" Vaan placed a hand on the barrel, earning an irritated look. He gazed piercingly at Roxas, brow furrowed. "Why do you keep going on about 'mother'? That's the thing you were crying about that one time when you were…" His features slackened. "Roxas – are you _sleep-walking?"_

"Roxas isn't sleeping," he replied imperiously. "Roxas has accepted mother. He had no choice! And now, we have come for the _core. _Mother's children must be restored!"

"Who _is _mother?" Vaan asked suspiciously.

"Mother is here," Roxas snapped, reaching up to tap his head. "Mother is within the core. We _must _be reunited. You have no _right _to separate us thus!"

Vaan's expression pinched, mind working fast. His eyes skated down Roxas' body, taking in the many tears, the horrific bloodstain on his leg, the general broken-down appearance. "Roxas, aren't you in pain?" he asked. "Aren't you worried about your injuries?"

"Roxas doesn't feel it," he replied shortly. "He remains towards the back, where he cannot be harmed by the body's reactions to the damage. It isn't so bad – he is still functioning to a satisfactory degree."

"Does anybody mind telling me what's going on?" Balthier asked, an eyebrow rising at Vaan. "Pray tell, Vaan, why is this boy spouting such utter nonsense and bleeding over the _Strahl?" _He adopted a falsetto, suddenly prancing around the room, shotgun waving from side to side as he trilled, _"Oh, he won't stop us, Balthier, silly! He'll just set off all the fucking alarms, thereby making months of effort wasted, and trail us back to our ship uttering gibberish!" _Fran smirked, while Vaan glared. "And _now," _the man said, reverting to his deeper tone, setting the gun down like a walking stick and leaning on it, hip canting to the side, "there's a very good chance that the entire _castle _is on its way here."

Vaan narrowed his eyes, gaze switching back down to the rebellious scowl on Roxas' face. "I don't know…" He tipped his head. "Hey, Roxas? Where's Axel? If you're here, he must be, too, right?"

"The good boy would have stopped us if he had followed," Roxas replied, a sudden neutrality entering his tone. "Roxas' love had to incapacitated."

Vaan stilled slightly. "Incapacitated," he echoed slowly. "How do you mean?"

"Roxas' father's keyblades were always better bludgeons than – "

"Holy _fuck, _you _killed _him?" The teen was on his knees, grabbing Roxas by the shoulders, shaking him violently. "What did you do, Roxas?"

"_I didn't do it," _he howled suddenly, for an instant becoming rigid, eyes screaming for help. Shocked, Vaan let him go. A bare moment later, the horror drained from the blond's eyes, replaced again by the calmness. "Mother did it," he said quietly. "Because it was necessary. You poisoned her, and stole her away, and now we have come to reclaim her."

"The boy is mad," Fran commented, eyes narrowed with distaste.

"Stark. Fucking. Loony," Balthier agreed.

"I don't – I don't think he is," Vaan said uncertainly.

"Then your definition of 'sanity' needs revising." Balthier eyed the figure on the floor. "We need to get going. We can't wait any longer. Others could be on their way." He turned to leave the cabin, heading for the cockpit. Vaan hooked his arm.

"What? Wait, we _can't, _you _know _we can't. That's the fastest way we'll get caught!"

"I agree," Fran said, shifting slightly on her stilettos, eyes flicking down to Roxas. "If we try to escape, the air authorities will pounce." She addressed Roxas: "You, castle boy – how many others know we are here?"

"Roxas and mother are the only ones," he replied sharply. "Others would only tell us to wait if we desired to come straight to the core. We had to hunt our memories to find you, but find you we _did. _Mother _knew _this would happen." His eyes cut burningly to Vaan. "She _knew _you would poison her, from the moment you arrived. All gathered data directed her to realise that there was the possibility of you becoming a _bad _boy. But you acted before she knew you would. She predicted inaccurately…"

"Wait – wait a minute…" Vaan held a hand out to Balthier, gesturing to stay for now. The man sighed, slumped against the wall, watching with pursed lips as the white-blond teen returned to where Roxas lay. The boy's blue eyes narrowed the closer he came. As Vaan knelt, Roxas pulled himself out of reach. "So… Roxas… who's mother, again?" he asked hesitantly, studying the boy with uncertainty.

"You know who mother is," the blond replied grumpily. Vaan paused, propping an elbow on his knee, covering his mouth with one hand as he gazed into the distance.

"You know… not long before I left – I mean, just a couple nights ago – I found something in the system. A pocket of data that had isolated itself as an anomalous result of the virus…" He returned his attention to Roxas with a frown. "Tell me," he said between his fingers, "do you know what the virus was made to do?"

"You separated the core from Twilight Town," Roxas answered impatiently. "So that it would undetectable. You sickened us for months, made the programming stick in Roxas' brain. This is why you're a_ bad boy."_

"Then – when I found that image of you sitting in that old playground… and you were acting like a child… what was that?"

Roxas dropped his eyes angrily. "You even stole the playground from us," he muttered. "It was our one safe place from you, and you even reached us _there."_

"Jenova," Vaan said wonderingly. "Jenova's in there with you, _isn't _she? That's why you're not reacting to the injuries – she doesn't know what pain is."

"Mother knows what _pain _is, foolish boy," Roxas snapped. Vaan shook his head.

"She doesn't. She knows what it looks like – she knows when someone is _in _pain, and that it's a bad thing, but… this is why Roxas is – is hiding. Isn't it?" His gaze was shrewd. "Is that it? Is it her in with you, Roxas, or you in with _her? _You don't seem like yourself."

"Are you telling me," Balthier said tiredly from the sidelines, rubbing the corners of his eyes, "that that boy is possessed by the computer?"

"His programming… _stuck, _you said…" Vaan eyed her. "So it didn't burn away. That's why all this is happening to him – the sleep-walking, all that…" He shook his head, expression hardening. "You _do _know you're not a real mother, right Jenova? You're a _program. _Even right now, you're just leftover particles of the system that should've died weeks ago." He stood, as Roxas hissed.

"Mother _is _a mother. She might not have given her children life, but she _raised _them, she _kept _them alive."

"It was your purpose," he said bluntly. "It's what DiZ made you to do. _He's _the one that saved them, him and all the others, and _me, _for that matter. We're the reason you're still around. We're the reason you have any measure of sentience. Machines can't be _mothers." _He watched the teen for a moment, thoughtful, foot tapping. "I think… we need to keep a hold on Roxas," he said at last, voice travelling softly throughout the cabin. The statement was met with surprise.

"For what reason?" Balthier asked, with mild interest.

"The programming still left in him. First, it could end up leading him back to us, wherever we go. I don't know how, but if he found us once, he might just – keep doing it, right? It's pretty obvious he's not in control right now."

"Duly noted," the man nodded briefly. "Second reason? Keeping in mind the _Strahl_'s load and weight limits, and the problematic issues of kidnapping."

Vaan hesitated. "We might be able to use him to interface with the core more effectively. And – whatever programming is left in him, we might be able to duplicate. Right now, Roxas is the only Twilight child in existence with his raw organic programming intact. If we could somehow take a sample, find a way to insert it into ourselves, we might be able to interface with Jenova mentally like they are now."

Fran sniffed, looking down at Roxas unsurely. "Are you sure we would _want _to? This _mother _character has turned him into a broken toy."

Vaan shook his head. "I'm sure we could figure out ways to control her. She's more a consciousness than I realised, at least when she's within him…" He met each of their gazes in turn, solemnly. "I mean, I'm not keen on becoming a kidnapper, but this could be our only opportunity."

"I forbid it," Roxas said coldly. "Mother will not be used. Roxas _will _return home to his love, and Twilight Town will be restored, along with all her children."

"Oh, really? You think you'll ever get it back in this state?" he asked dryly, gesturing to the boy's injuries. "Do some basic scans, Jenova, if it's possible – Roxas won't last much longer if you leave him like this. Then you'll have killed him – your own son."

Roxas glared. "Roxas' body is physically capable," he replied haughtily. "My son is stronger than you know."

"_My _son, now, is it? Not 'mother's' son? Is Roxas even still _in _there?"

He glared. "He is. He asks that you do not separate him from his love. It makes him cry in the darker sections of his mind, where he hides."

Vaan faltered, staring for a long moment. He glanced over at Balthier, who inclined his head faintly. The white-blond teen swallowed. "…I'm sorry, Roxas," he said softly. "But – this is how it has to be."

"He is real, you know," he said sharply, eyes hard on the other male. "You pretend he matters less because he lived with mother, but you forget that he once had a birth mother from your reality. She gave him life here. He is not some flight of fancy dreamed up by the master's mind."

"You're trying the wrong manipulation tactic," Vaan said flatly. "My mind is made up. Roxas is coming with us."

He flared, struggling to rise. "You think you can _keep _us?" Balthier came over and casually planted a foot hard onto the blood-saturated thigh, crushing down. A breathy scream burst from Roxas' lungs. He flopped back down, suddenly weaker.

"You see, dear lady," the man said smoothly, "perhaps you _are _unaware of pain, as yet, but as long as you're in that body, we can discover ways and means of making you understand. You are _both _coming with us."

Fran snorted. "You realise he is mad, do you not? No matter your talk of programs within humans, the boy _is _insane. He believes himself to be two separate people."

"Hmph. And I suppose it would be _us _you'd have injected with this biological program?" Balthier asked Vaan sceptically. The teen rolled his eyes.

"I _told _you, we could _control _it. We'd make sure we knew what we were doing. Imagine the possibilities! If we sold the core to Zanarkand, we'd be able to see and _manipulate _everything they're doing with it." He raised an eyebrow, smirking and folding his arms at Balthier's suddenly intrigued expression.

"I… like that thought," the man admitted, blinking rapidly. He nodded once. "Done. He's coming with us." He smiled broadly at Roxas. "Welcome aboard the _Strahl, _Roxas, Jenova. I'm sure your stay with us will be simply _charming."_

"No," the blond moaned. "Please, you cannot do this to us! We must return the core to the castle, or Twilight Town will be _lost."_

"Tough biscuits, old girl." He turned to the others. "Make sure we're ready to leave the instant the airways free up. And _do _keep an eye out for others from the castle, yes? It wouldn't do to have the boy taken from us, if he really is going to be as valuable as all that."

"Please don't separate Roxas from his love," Roxas said quietly, attracting their attention for a brief moment. Uncertainty shimmered in his eyes. "Please. His crying has increased. I do not like to hear it."

"See?" Balthier said dryly after a beat of silence. "You're already beginning to understand the concept of pain. I knew it wouldn't take long. You _are _clever."

Blue eyes shut briefly. "The bad boy is a terrible betrayer of his people," he said tightly. "This is the thought running through Roxas' mind." They flashed open to glare at Vaan. "A _terrible _betrayer." He sighed a moment later. "At least show us the core. We would like to know that mother is safe. We understand that with Roxas' physical hindrances and your possession of weapons capable of long-range attack, we have no hope of escaping at this point in time. But – we would like to see that the core is unharmed. An affirmation of our efforts."

Balthier hesitated, shrugged, unzipped the pouch at his waist and brought out the padded velvet ring container. He eased the lid up, holding the core in place with one finger as he tipped it up for Roxas to see, brassy-coloured alloy flashing in the harsh light. "Happy now?"

There was a deafening crash against the side of the ship, like a gong being hammered, vibrating through the cabin, loud as a gunshot. Balthier jumped, nearly dropped the core, snapped the case shut and tucked it away again. _"What the hell is it this time?" _

He went over to the door, shotgun out and ready, pressed the button for it to open, staircase descending. He turned, stabbed a finger at Vaan. "You, keep that boy down. He does _not _escape."

Fran picked up her bow and arrow, sighing in annoyance. "Things were quieter before he came along," she grumbled. Balthier gripped his gun tightly and started to exit out into the darkness of the hangar, a breath of dry air sweeping in, smelling of dust and oil.

Then came a cry, strangled, a choked off scream, and he was shoved back, staggering. He hit Fran, nearly taking her down as he collapsed. Wide-eyed, she notched an arrow, swinging around to shoot. The bow was snatched from her hands, the hilt of a sword coming up, cracking across her face with splintering force. She seemed to pirouette almost gracefully, before crumpling to the ship's metal deck in a pool of blood. It mingled quickly with Balthier's, the man's leather breastplate split through its middle from where the long blade had pierced and been wrenched. Vaan froze, staring with round eyes at the silver-haired intruder who turned to him with a satisfied smirk, black leather creaking, gloves shining with the blood of his companions, green irises hypnotic. "Hello, little boy," the man said happily. "I was wondering if Roxas could come out to play."

Vaan's lips parted, face pale. "You're – the guy." He shifted slightly, blocking the blond off almost subconsciously. "You're the guy that attacked them – aren't you? At the castle? The one who – who thinks he's Sephiroth."

A snarl, a blur of motion, Vaan went flying back against the wall, head cracking loudly against it. "I _am _Sephiroth, you disgraceful little _shit. _I _am _him, and Roxas is _mine." _

He glanced down sharply at Roxas, the boy wide-eyed and breathless, fearful. He smiled. "Hello, again, little war-orphan."

"You are not part of mother's predictions," he gasped. "Mother doesn't know what to do."

"That's okay," he cooed in response, crouching down to run a hand gently along the boy's jaw. "You don't even have a mother anymore. You can have me, instead."

"I want the core," he said stubbornly. "The bad boy took it."

The man tilted his head, lips pursing. "Who's the bad boy?"

"_Him." _He pointed. Green eyes flicked up, narrowing.

"Is he the one that hurt you like this, Roxas?" He stood slowly. "Nobody is allowed to hurt you but _me. _And even then…" He flashed a brilliant smile down at the boy. "I only do it because I love you."

Roxas hesitated, a spark of hope appearing. "Roxas is your love? Even though Roxas already has a love?"

He laughed richly. "You are acting _very _strangely, little war-orphan. But so much more _receptive. _Yes, yes, fine, Roxas is my love."

"Then – would you get the core to make Roxas and his mother happy?"

The man's eyes crinkled at the corners, slow amusement spreading across his face. "If that is what Roxas would like…"

The blond nodded eagerly. "Yes. Yes, indeed. You are not part of mother's data, but we will gladly accept you if you will help us."

"Well, then, how can I possibly say _no?" _Another chuckle, a shake of the head. He lifted the long blade, pointed it at Vaan. "You, kid – what the fuck is he talking about? What's the core?"

"The man has it! The man!" Roxas was grinning, happiness leaping across his expression. The silver-haired man faltered slightly, a frown creasing between his brows.

"What's wrong with him?" he asked Vaan. The teen swallowed thickly, throat bobbing, eyes fixed on the tip of the sword, dangerously close to his neck.

"He's – there's – it's part of his programming. With Twilight Town."

"So he hasn't just gone crazy?"

Vaan shrugged desperately. "I don't – I don't know."

The man rubbed his chin thoughtfully. "Hmm. Last long?" Again, Vaan could only answer indecisively. The silver-haired attacker turned with a sigh, narrow gaze falling on Balthier. He rolled his wrist, pointing a finger. "This man?" he asked Roxas. The blond nodded enthusiastically.

"No – wait," Vaan interrupted anxiously. "Please – you can't just take it."

"Huh." A slight laugh. "You really _don't _think I'm Sephiroth, _do _you?" Shaking his head, silver hair shifting silkily, he went to where Balthier clung faintly to consciousness. He must have muttered something, because Roxas heard the sword-bearer snap, "Shut up!" There was a thump, Vaan letting out a low groan, sinking down the wall. Roxas lifted his head, and they saw the saviour kneeling, clasping the hilt of his sword for support as he dug through Balthier's pockets. The blade stood upright, held firmly in place by the fallen man's chest. "It is in a small blue box," Roxas said helpfully. The man glanced over his shoulder, giving the blond another beautiful smile, before returning to the hunt. A moment later, a zipper was tugged, and a low exclamation of triumph sounded from his lips. He stood, staring at the velvet case, tugging his sword free casually. He held it up. "Is this it, love?"

"Yes! Yes, that's it!" The blond hesitated abruptly. "Are you going to – not give it to us now?"

The man laughed, tossed it over, the boy catching it easily with surprise. He met the saviour's gaze with pleased appreciation. "Thank you so much! We are together again!"

"Yes, we are," the man replied, smiling. "Aren't we?" He went to where the boy lay. "Here, let me help you up." They clasped hands, the black-clad stranger easing Roxas to his feet, where he swayed. "Oh! Don't fall now," the man scolded playfully. "I'll make you a deal – you hold the jewellery box, and I'll hold you. It'll be too hard to walk with your leg hurt like that."

"The wire caught us on the way down," Roxas said happily, turning the velvet case over and over in his slashed hands, leaving prints of blood all over.

"_Did _it? How interesting! Can you stand? For just a moment?" He leaned Roxas against the wall by the door, where he could feel the breeze, just ever so slight from where the door at the opposite end of the hangar hung open. He gazed rapturously at the box as the man returned to where Balthier lay, picking up the shotgun, placing the sword aside. Roxas heard Vaan mutter, "Oh, God." A second later there was a deafening gunshot, startling Roxas badly. He clutched the core's keeping place as it fumbled in his grasp, clamping it to his hammering heart. He started to turn, but the saviour caught his face in one black-gloved hand before he could look. "It's okay now," he said sweetly. "The bad boy can't do anything anymore."

"Oh…" Roxas was puzzled. "But then – why is Roxas still crying?"

The man's expression twitched, the smile thinning out. "Roxas is crying?"

The blond nodded with a frown, eyes drifting back to the box. "He is. It is quieter than before, though."

"If Roxas is crying – who are _you?" _

He smiled. "I am his mother."

"I… see." The man wrapped an arm under Roxas' legs, quickly slipping his sword into its long sheath on his hip before using the now-free other hand to cup the back of his head. He picked the teen up, bridal style, studying the way the blue eyes tumbled over the little box turning in his hands. All of a sudden, the eyes stilled, then rose slowly to the green. The saviour paused, fingers tightening slightly, wondering if the end of the complacency was approaching. But rather than beginning to struggle with belated realisation, Roxas instead gave a small smile. "No, Roxas," he said peaceably. "This boy is _good. _You must listen to your mother. She knows best, after all. And we have the core back. Everything will be fine now."

The man with the long silver hair smiled, and descended the stairs, Roxas clasped firmly to his chest.


	41. Chapter 41

**A/N: **Hi again. Massive exhaustion here, and frustration, and squinty looks at the chapter. Had to take the extra day to actually _figure out _what was meant to happen. No apologies, though :D I've been told to stop that, and being the massive conformer that I am, I folded. Peer pressure. The keyboard is looking like a mighty fine place to plant my face repeatedly right now. Oh, man, just performed final edit – _now _I'll apologise, not because of the lateness, but because it's _shit. _Bluuuurgh. Sorry. I'll go resume the chapter-sixteen scrubbing now. sdfjkvgjkfmkm,cklasklasdmklsdf/... ?

_Note: _Just gone through, done a fine edit, written post-frustration, and improved it somewhat. Still glaring at myself, though.

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CHAPTER FORTY-ONE

Leon hated this place. Too often in his life, he'd found himself and the people he cared about within these sanitised walls. He was sick of the plastic chairs, the unforgivably shitty coffee, the whisper of rubber soles along the shining floors. He hated the stench of disinfectant trying to overwhelm the vomit, the faeces, the sweat and blood.

He sighed, head in hands, struggling to stay awake. Cloud had passed out on the way to the hospital, halfway through an emergency blood transfusion. It was an hour past midday, and though he was out of intensive care, vital statistics healthier than expected, the blond had yet to open his eyes. Leon had been bidden to be patient, by four separate people now. He was idly toying with the idea of punching the next platitude-spouter into a bloody pulp, but doubted Aerith would approve. He wondered what his chances were of threatening the victim into silence.

Too often, Leon's fingertips found the line of scar tissue spanning his face, tracing along slowly – a reminder of his own distant stay here. Cloud's scar would stretch along his waist, almost perfectly nestled on the milky skin under his ribs. Sora, in a room further down the hall, would forever have a puncture mark decorating his right collar, and Axel… From what they'd said, he'd be lucky to ever be able to walk without some kind of aid again. For now, wheelchairs were being mentioned. Future predictions had the redhead hobbling around with a cane. That would come after the A-frame.

He had only recently come out of surgery, had been moved straight into a private room. The nurses had been warned about the circumstances surrounding the injury, and had tranquilisers at the ready for when he roused. The worst thing for him now would be uncontrolled hysteria – stiches, shock, fever from infection, any one of those factors was bad enough without being further compounded by the emotional wreck the man had become.

It had been Demyx that found him, eyes rolling, voice nearly gone, lying naked in an endless pool of his own blood. It had been a near thing, Leon had been informed. The night just passed had been the closest Axel had ever come to just up and dying, and it had been _done _by…

"_Roxas! Where's Roxas? Please! PLEASE!"_

"_Axel, who did this to you? Where's Roxas?"_

"_PLEASE! YOU HAVE TO FIND HIM! HE DOESN'T KNOW WHAT HE'S DOING!"_

Roxas had been nowhere to be found – neither he, nor the keyblade that had caused the damage. Leon doubted he could ever be forgiven for returning the blades into Axel's care, knowing his intention to pass them on to the blond. The thoughtless incompetence was breathtaking. It made a scream build in his chest, festering due to its trapped quality.

His head throbbed, eyes stinging with dryness. The daylight entering Cloud's room was almost soothing – not entirely, but the confirmation that the endless night was over was a dizzying relief. He raised his gaze to the blond, willing him tiredly to wake. Leon couldn't sleep until he was certain he'd end up seeing sky-blue eyes again.

The door creaked open, Demyx peering through uncertainly. "Leon?" The brunet grunted, fingers over his lips, chin propped on palm, barely glancing over, fighting irritation at the intrusion. It was times like this that he would happily give up the mantle of leadership, to just be allowed to wallow in whatever dark place he desired, without responsibilities to others. But – he _was _the head of the Committee. And with Sora out of commission, and Luxord working feverishly with the leftover scraps of the technician force back at the castle, he was the only point of authority around. He drew a deep breath, scraping a callused hand through his messy, shaggy hair. "Yeah?" he asked, attempting interest. "I don't want more coffee, if you're offering." Demyx hesitated, shook his head. His fingers were tight around the door, an anxious expression in place. Leon went still. "Is it Axel?" he asked in a low voice. The blond sitarist had refused to leave the redhead the entire time since discovering him. Usually joined at the hip to Zexion, he looked strange and lonely hanging about in the halls, too agitated to sit and wait for Axel to waken after surgery.

He blinked, features easing slightly. "No, no – he's fine. He's doing fine. It's just – "

Again, the hesitation. Leon scrubbed at his cheeks impatiently. "Demyx, please."

"There's – someone you need to meet."

Leon rested his face on his knuckles, tipped on its side, eyes hollow and wearily dark. "Is it important? Really important?" He didn't want to have to leave Cloud, was scared of what he might miss if he did.

Demyx sucked his bottom lip, nodded shortly. _"Really."_

The brunet sighed, bit back a groan, glancing over at Cloud as he gathered his strength and rose a moment later. _Don't go anywhere. _He met the blond at the door, Demyx pushing away and setting off down the hall. "She just – she came out of nowhere," he muttered. Leon frowned.

"'She'?"

They entered the waiting room, where Riku stood, surprisingly, considering he'd spent every moment at Sora's bedside since the boy had exited the operating theatre. Leon spied a Styrofoam cup of the hospital's favoured caffeinated poison clutched crushingly in his fingers, the lid half off, an explanation to his presence – but the woman he was glaring at was a mystery. That is, until Leon noticed the rabbit-like ears that rose from her skull, a moment's blank staring confirming that they were, in fact, real. "Viera," he realised. Comprehension struck, his expression turning blackly thunderous, withering only as she turned, upon hearing the utterance, to glare coldly at him. Her face was a bruised, swollen mess, plasters and bandages covering majority of her jaw. "You are the one in charge here?" she asked, words garbled by the damage, thick, hoarse. Leon's eyes narrowed.

"Of what?"

She flicked a hand impatiently, ears twitching forward. "These children are calling you their leader. They believed you would be…" She had to pause and swallow, obviously having difficulty with her speech. Leon had to concentrate to understand her. "You would be interested," she concluded, with a husky rasp at the back of her throat. "I have information."

"Leon – " Riku's voice burned. " – she's the _one _that _shot _them!" His eyes glittered dangerously as they turned to meet him. It was as though he was asking permission to repay the pain she had caused, the fear. Leon was hard-pressed to not agree, and simply return to his vigil. Demyx desperately interjected, "Please, Leon, listen to what she has to say!"

Leon grunted angrily. "Why should I care?"

"Vaan is dying," she said sharply, forcing clarity into each word. The man halted, eyes widening minutely.

"Vaan's here?"

She inclined her head. "He has been shot. He cannot be saved."

Leon glared, heart hardening. "A pirate's fate."

"No," she said, shifting on the spot, arms folding delicately over her stomach. "We were attacked by a madman." A brief pause, then, "He took the boy called Roxas."

"_Roxas?!" _All three voices shouted at once, earning a scowl from a passing orderly. Demyx leapt forward, seizing the woman, who hissed and pulled free. "What about Roxas? _Where did you see Roxas?" _he demanded.

"More importantly," snapped Riku, "who took him? A madman _took _him?"

Leon grabbed her elbow, grip painfully tight, though she seemed to refuse to wince. She met his glare defiantly. "You need to tell me," he said silkily, "exactly what you know."

"I will tell you nothing," she retorted icily. Riku audibly growled, as Leon's breath hissed through his teeth, nails digging deep into her flesh. She then added, "I have no allegiance to your people. But Vaan _does. _He will tell you what you wish to know." The brunet hesitated. She reached over, unhooking his fingers one by one. "I advise you go see him, and try to keep your animosity to a minimum. He is the only one that cares enough to enlighten you about what happened last night." Her eyes flashed. "Do not tell the authorities about us, I warn you. Balthier and I will be leaving shortly, and we will not return to Hollow Bastion out of respect. Vaan is your responsibility now."

"Which room?" Demyx demanded.

She tossed her head slightly. "Third door on your right."

"I'llgo," Leon cut in, holding the boy back as he instantly surged forth. Demyx glared.

"Why? I can do it! I want to know where _Roxie _is!"

"Demyx, let me. This isn't a job for you to do. It's my responsibility."

The blond wrung his hands in distress, capitulating quickly in favour of finding out sooner. "Please-please-please find out where Roxie is. _Please, _Leon."

He nodded briefly. "I'll see what I can do." He glanced at the viera. "Third on the right?"

She confirmed with a slight motion of the head. As he set off, she accompanied him. They arrived, and she promptly ignored him, entering the room across the hall from Vaan's, not even glancing back. A tired voice greeted, "Hello, darling. How's things?"

"Fine," she responded shortly, closing the door behind her, leaving Leon by himself. The man stared after her for a minute, before twisting slowly to gaze at the door supposedly leading to Vaan's room. Frustration and concern warred within him, anger, outrage, all blanketed thickly by overwhelming fatigue. He drew a breath, grinding the heel of his palm into his forehead, eyes closing for a moment. _Roxas. _Knowing that Demyx wouldn't rest until he found some answers, Leon reached out, hand upon the doorknob, and twisted, entering the dim interior.

Aerith was there, weeping quietly. The curtains had been firmly drawn, darkness filling the room. He paused, frozen in place, not sure how to proceed. It occurred to him that, for all he'd done to cut himself off entirely from them all, Vaan was still an original member of the Hollow Bastion group. He had been with them for years now, had worked hard, had thrown it away to gallivant with thieves, but couldn't quite be so easily unhooked from their hearts. The greatest sting of his betrayal, after all, had been his blatant rejection of all the years of camaraderie. Sadness touched Leon without warning, upon seeing the huddle in the bed, connected to beeping machines, none of them bothering to try and preserve him, just... monitoring. Biding time. Vaan was dying.

"Aerith." His voice was low. The woman looked up from her bedside position, tear-streaked, startled. He frowned. "How did you know he was here? Why didn't you tell me?"

"I - I overheard the nurses…"

"It's my fault," Vaan said, tone thin and reedy. There was a thick vein of hopelessness running through it, evident even in those three words. "I told her to stay. Fran said she'd go get you." His head turned on the pillow, eyes paler than Leon remembered. "How's Axel doing?"

Leon eyed him uncertainly. "He's alive. He'll have trouble getting around for a while."

"I mean… mentally. Emotionally. Has he gone crazy yet?"

"Why would he do that?" the man asked flatly.

Calmly, the teen replied, "Because it was Roxas that hurt him. Roxas told me. Or – Jenova did."

Leon sighed, resting his head against the doorframe. "Aerith, you should go. I need to talk to Vaan."

"I want to stay," the woman stated firmly, banishing the tears from her voice. Vaan took her hand, which rested on the bed, and patted it with a weak sigh.

"Seriously, Aerith, you're way too loyal. I appreciate it, but I'm not going anywhere just yet – you can come back when we're done." She scowled, first at him, then at Leon. The man met her gaze heavily, placid. She studied him for a suspicious moment.

"Be nice," she said briefly, an element of pleading in there somewhere. Leon nodded. She took a shuddering breath, smiled tightly for Vaan's benefit, touching a hand to his face. His eyes slipped shut. Aerith stood and walked around the bed, brushing past Leon, the light from the hall illuminating her puffy skin. She'd had too much to worry about lately, too many people to visit down here – lines were forming in her forehead. Leon regretted them. He closed the door as her footsteps tapped away, leaned against it. A small silence developed, broken by Vaan quietly saying, "I won't apologise."

He grimaced, hardly surprised. "…Not even for Cloud and Sora?"

There was a slight pause. "That was different. They attacked Fran first."

"Because it's their job to do so," Leon said sharply, neck stiffening. "Because they were trying to protect the core."

"They didn't even know that's what she was there for," Vaan argued. "They just – " He cut himself off with a growl of frustration. "That doesn't even matter anymore." A familiar spark entered his eyes. "Do you want to know about Roxas or not?"

Leon studied him. "For someone supposedly on his deathbed, you sure are lively."

"Well, I _am," _the teen snapped back, voice cracking slightly. "I can't move my legs, asshole. I can't even sit up. I was shot at short fucking range – I'm _dying."_

Leon was quiet for a moment. "There's nothing they can do?"

Vaan sighed, a ragged sound, anger subsiding. "They tried, but – I'm just – I'm too messed up. I can't even… feel anything." He closed his eyes. "Pretty soon, Aerith will have to go, anyway. I'll fall asleep eventually, and won't wake up. That's what they told me." He gave a short laugh, asked with a brittle edge, "Have you ever been as fucking terrified of sleep as I am right now?"

Leon had been pining for it for hours. "No." His shoulders sagged a little, as he reached up to touch his scar. "Tell me about Roxas."

Vaan relaxed, eyes slipping shut now that they were onto firmer ground. He swallowed, throat bobbing. "You know the sleep-walking?"

"Yes…"

"It's not sleep-walking. At least – not anymore." His eyes flashed open, shining in the darkness. "I don't know if he ever was. It's his programming, Leon – it's still in there. Jenova's controlling him somehow."

"…Jenova. As in, the core?" He lifted a brow at the boy, assessing his verity.

"That's what I said," Vaan confirmed on a breath. "The core. At first I thought Roxas was just crazy, but then I realised – it's _Jenova. _She's in his head somehow, in the programming that never ended up burning away… It's my fault," he admitted bluntly, without any obvious glimmer of remorse. "The virus I used on the system affected him while he was in there. When he came out, it must've stopped things from functioning properly during the burn-out process." Leon's eyes narrowed as he tried to understand. Vaan elaborated, "I should have realised things were wrong. I found him in the system one night. Obviously he wasn't _there, _but… _part _of him was. Whatever programming is still there has been keeping a link open with the mainframe. Projecting his thoughts there. I just figured at the time it was a hiccup occurring in the system, but now… Yeah. I think part of his mind was inside the computer. Just like part of Jenova's mind is inside _him – _she seems more sentient while she's with him."

Leon wished Sora was here to further make sense of this, at least be able to cross-examine the boy in more detail, because at the moment, taking things at face-value was both confusing and frustrating. He couldn't understand how this was possible, yet Vaan, though faintly incredulous of it all, was obviously convinced of his theory. "When did you see Roxas? The viera said he'd been taken by a madman." His eyes lowered to the lump of his body beneath the blanket, looking deceptively whole. "The same man that shot you."

Vaan nodded weakly. "Sephiroth." Leon twitched.

"Impossible."

The white-blond boy huffed thinly. "I know. But he thought he was. Or said he was. Either way, it's the same guy that came to the castle. He took Roxas. And Roxas has the core." He shrugged a little, awkwardly, a bitter smile hovering near his lips. "That either makes things really easy on you, or really fucking hard. It's all in the one place, Leon. Now you've just gotta find where, and all your problems are solved."

"All of them?" Leon shook his head gloomily. He crossed his arms, leaning against the wall abruptly, head sinking. "What the hell got you _here, _Vaan?"

"Life's a bitch, and then you die." Leon's eyes cut up sharply, bristling at the flippant attitude, and stopped. There was – nothing on the boy's face. A study in blankness. He meant each and every word. "We were at the airship terminal when it happened," he said dully. "Getting ready to leave with the first wave of outgoing traffic." The smile again, twisting. "Don't waste _too _much sympathy on me. Like I said, I'm not sorry."

Leon stared for a long moment, watching the slow rise and fall of his chest under the white blankets. "Any idea where they were going?"

"None." He pursed his lips. "You now know what I know. Except – " He shifted his head, twisting it around slightly to better look at the man. "It really wasn't Roxas that hurt Axel. Aerith told me the details - it fits. Jenova said she incapacitated him, so he wouldn't follow when they left."

"They?"

Vaan's expression flattened slightly "Roxas is still in there. He was crying in the back of his own skull." He shrugged carelessly. "I felt bad, but not bad enough to want to let him leave. We were going to take him with us. I guess that the Sephiroth guy kind of saved him, in a twisted, not-helpful way."

Leon snorted slightly, bumping away from the wall. "For someone who isn't sorry, you're making an awful lot of confessions. Sounds like your conscience talking."

"It's either you or Aerith," Vaan responded flatly. "And… I'd rather not have to face anymore of her disappointment in this lifetime, short as it's going to last." He turned slowly, to stare at the ceiling. "So… you should go figure out what to do, now. That's your job, right? Go find Roxas. Make it quick, he was pretty messed-up when I saw him. Jenova doesn't know how to handle a human-fucking-body… Decide yourself if Axel should know."

Leon hesitated, hands dropping to his sides, weight shifting from one leg to the next, boots creaking slightly. There was a sense of finality to the teen's words. It seemed the conversation was over. He took a breath. "Vaan… I apologise. I know I'm not in charge of you guys, but – I wish I'd seen how desperate you were. I'm sorry that no one saw." He grimaced. "You don't deserve this."

Vaan's gaze narrowed, not lowering from the roof. "It was my choice, right?" He closed his eyes. "Would you mind sending Aerith back in, when you go? It's… nice. She still cares." Leon nodded slightly, turned after a long moment, went to the door. "I'm… too tired," Vaan whispered suddenly, a shake in his words. "Get Aerith… to bring me some coffee."

Leon's knuckles whitened as he twisted the handle, stepping out into the hall. He returned to the waiting room. The flower-woman was there with Demyx. Riku had apparently gone back to Sora. Neither of them noticed him enter – Demyx had his arms around the woman's body as she quietly sobbed into a tissue. Feeling a twist in his chest, short of breath, neck prickling, Leon continued on. He trudged to the coffee machine and paid for two cups, watched the sludgy stuff shoot down, scalding hot and strong enough to peel paint. He piled sugar into each, securing the lids, and backtracked. He approached the pair, fought a flinch at Aerith's blotchy face. It just – it wasn't – _Aerith. _She didn't look like the calm, natural mother anymore. She looked – both young and old at the same time. Vulnerable, haggard, in more pain than perhaps she thought she could handle. They all thought of her as a mother – Leon wondered, suddenly, and for maybe foolishly the first time, if she actually considered them her children. He wondered if he was face-to-face with a woman who had had half of her brood broken in only one night.

Her pain transferred into his chest, with a bolt of panic – he didn't want things to be like this anymore. This wasn't how life was meant to be. All these last few weeks – they had just been the calm before the storm. Incredible, that none of them had seen last night coming. He envied Demyx in that moment, his easy ability to just comfort and be comforted. No barriers at all, not one. Leon wished he could be like that, wished he could take the seat on her other side, wind his arms between theirs, and dig his face into her shoulder. But he was a leader. He was in charge. He had – work to do. He had lost the luxury of breaking down a very, very long time ago. And so he nudged her toe with his, holding down the cups of coffee. "I'm done," he said quietly, without emotion. "He wanted some caffeine. I put extra sugar in for good measure. Ought to keep him buzzing for a while. There's one for you, too, if you can stand to risk it."

Aerith sniffed, wiping her cheeks with her sleeves, reining her anguish in as far as possible. She was another one like him, then. Even despite her ability to cry, she still had to be strong. She wasn't allowed to crumble any more than he was. She stood, smoothing her hair, her dress. She took the cups carefully, met his gaze for a flickering moment. Then she wrapped her arms around his neck, up on her tiptoes, pulling him into a hunch. She sniffed loudly in his ear. "Thank you," she said hoarsely. "I know he'll appreciate it." He nodded cautiously, patting her gently. She released him a moment later and left without another word, hurrying along to the blond teen's room. Demyx gazed up at him pleadingly. "Well? What happened? What'd Vaan say?"

Leon took a deep breath, composing himself, gathering every frayed thread of thought within reach and attempting to make sense of it all. "We need to go back to the castle soon. Emergency meeting needs calling. First, I'll see Sora and Axel. Then we go. Don't slow me down, Demyx."

"I'm ready to go _now," _the blond answered sharply. "Just don't leave without me."

"Go wait by the bike, then. I'll see you in a few minutes. I won't be long – I can't be."

His first stop was Sora's room. He needed to run this by someone knowledgeable. He knew the door number, legs taking broad steps as he swiftly traversed the few long halls spanning the ward. It was annoying to have them peppered around like this – it didn't help his conscience when he sat in Cloud's room, knowing there were others needing checking on, the walk between them eating up as much time as the conversations themselves. At least they were all on the same floor this time, and there were no irate soldiers to circumnavigate as they visited their own. It was almost refreshing, in a wholly irritating sort of way.

He reached Sora's door, brow furrowed, opened it and entered noisily, urgency working its way through his veins. He stopped sharply, halfway to the bed, finding himself pinned by a pair of warning teal-coloured eyes. Sora was fast asleep, no doubt knocked out by painkiller. On his uninjured side, Riku stretched out alongside the boy, an arm curled around his waist. Obviously planning on sleeping also, the silver-haired teen glared without speaking, the caution tacit that to stir the brunet was to die. Leon hesitated, torn between letting Sora rest and desiring some perspective. Riku shook his head slowly, careful not to disturb the invalid. The man jammed a thumb into one eye, letting out a gradual hiss of air. It wouldn't be worth the wrath, and Sora would only be confused by the onslaught of broken information. He curtly uttered, "Fine," and left the room again, shutting the door quietly, before stomping off back towards Axel's section of the floor. It was almost exactly the same room the redhead had occupied during his last visit. In fact, he realised, faltering slightly, there was every chance he was in _Roxas' _room. That was… almost disturbing.

Leon wasn't sure if this was a good idea or not, letting Axel know what was going on. Hell, who knew if the man was even awake yet? His ordeal had been horrific, and the damage was phenomenal, bad enough on its own, worse in that it had hit almost precisely on the old injury. It didn't matter how many years passed, these things never quite went away, and Axel was busy finding out firsthand. But Leon couldn't countenance the thought of just rushing away, aware that Roxas was in danger and not in control of himself, and leaving Axel to wonder with an increasingly shattered mind at what had happened during the night, where the blond he'd all but devoted his entire existence to was. He had to decide which would be more detrimental to the redhead's mental health – thinking Roxas had lost his mind and was out wandering, or that the boy had been taken over and was in the hands of a potential killer. He wondered, if he were in Axel's place, which would be preferable – destructive ignorance, or the screaming fear of knowledge.

_Pretend it's Cloud. _

His blood chilled – for all he knew, it very possibly could have been. After all, this mystery attacker was connected to him somehow, had settled his sights upon Roxas because of their physical similarities. It hurt, panic fluttering in his chest, to think of Cloud in that same situation. So, what would Leon want? He's in hospital, his leg broken by his lover, no idea what's happening or where he is – does he really want the truth? He found Axel's room, knocked with one knuckle as he twisted the handle and entered, grimly determined.

Axel was awake, staring out the window. Aerith had been and left her calling card, flowers on the nightstand. The man's green eyes were focused beyond them, an emptiness to his gaze, a hollowness. There was a glaze to them, as they rolled slowly to Leon, that bespoke the drugs in his system, but it didn't seem as though he'd ended up being sedated. There was a stillness about him, so different from his cracked, frenetic state back at the castle. Leon wondered if he had calmed, or just… given up, somehow. There was a desolate feel to the room, like maybe he had.

"I wasn't sure you'd be awake," he said quietly, by way of greeting. "How are you?"

Axel stared for a moment, eyelids at half-mast. "Where's Roxas?"

Leon folded his arms. "…He's been sighted."

The redhead stilled. "And?"

"And…" Leon wasn't sure what to say – after all, there was the truth, and the _truth. _No matter if their situations were reversed – he had to decide what was best for Axel, what was necessary information and what _wasn't. _"…We're going to find him. He doesn't know who he is right now."

Axel closed his eyes, nodded marginally. "I gathered as much." His expression tightened. "Do you think he'll ever get better?" When his eyes opened again, they glittered slightly, unshed tears. "He's sick, Leon. He doesn't even know what he's doing." There was hopelessness in him. Leon shook his head.

"He's not sick, Axel. He's being controlled by the core."

The man froze, eyebrows drawing together. His attention focused sharply. "…What do you mean?"

Leon sighed, tipped his chin down. "Vaan's here, at the hospital. He got shot by… someone. A – pirate thing. Long story short, he encountered Roxas at the airship terminal. Somehow, the core is acting through him – Vaan said it was to do with his programming not being burnt away – and he managed to track them down before they left with it."

Axel's eyes were wide, round. His chest stopped moving, a stunned expression in place. "What the fuck are you talking about?" His voice strengthened slightly.

"The Jenova core. It's controlling him," Leon stated calmly. "The whole reason you got hurt was so you wouldn't follow when he left – you know that's not something Roxas would do."

"Of _course _I know," the redhead replied, strangled. "But – I thought it was to do with the sleep-walking. I thought…"

"We _all _thought he'd lost his mind," Leon said bluntly. "It's a pretty fucking crazy kind of act. But according to Vaan, it's the computer. He seemed to believe what he was talking about."

Axel was breathing hard all of a sudden. "So where is he now? Where's Roxas? Did Vaan tell you that?"

"Vaan… doesn't know," Leon confessed reluctantly.

Green eyes widened. "What? Why the hell not? What happened?"

Leon scowled, hands going to his hips. "Look, some – some stuff happened, and he lost track of Roxas. But – Roxas has the core now."

Axel ran this frantically through his mind. "But – does that mean he'll return to the castle? If it's the core controlling him – the next logical step, it's returning to the _castle, _right?"

Leon groaned internally. What he wouldn't have given for palm-cards and a practice run-through at this before it had to be discussed. "Look, Axel… Roxas is – " He blew out a sigh. "Okay, fine, you want to know it all?" Axel nodded sharply. He steeled himself. "The guy posing as Sephiroth – he's the one that shot Vaan. Vaan's now dying, in another room. The guy followed Roxas to the airship terminal, shot Vaan, took Roxas. So right now… Roxas is with him."

The blood had drained from Axel's face as the explanation unfolded, tattoos looking like slashes in contrast with the powdery-white. Voice suddenly loud in the small space, he burst out, "So go and fucking _find _him, Leon! I don't care if he found a way to get Roxas to the goddamn _moon, _you're going to get that gun-fucking-blade of yours, grab Vincent by his _cock _if you have to, and go and _find him." _He looked around wildly, feebly trying to push himself up. "Fuck this," he muttered anxiously. "Get me a fucking wheelchair, I'm going to come and make sure you do this _right."_

Leon restrained him, snapped, "Axel, calm down! There's nothing you can do. I know that's hard for you, but you have to accept it, or you'll find yourself sedated. No one's going to let you leave this hospital – if you try to in this condition, you won't make it to the front door! Do you know how close you came to dying? Do you want to try it _again?_ Then it won't even _matter _if Roxas is found, he'll be all a-fucking-_lone." _

Axel gaped up at him, panicking more with each passing moment. "But _Leon, _he has _Roxas! _He'll kill him, he'll _rape _him – you didn't see the way he _was _with him, Leon – he – he'll kill him just so I never _see _him again – "

"Axel, _breathe. _If you don't get a hold of yourself, I'll call the nurse," the brunet threatened. "Damn it, if I'd known you were going to freak out, I wouldn't have said anything." He released the redhead abruptly, stepping back with a glare. "Right now, Demyx is waiting by Cloud's bike down in the parking lot. As soon as I finish with you, we're going back to the castle to call an emergency meeting, and we are going to _figure out _what to do." His expression hardened. "Listen to me, just for a minute – " He leaned forward, hands clamping on the metal bar spanning the length of the bed, lowering himself close to the petrified man's face. Axel's green eyes flicked from one storm-grey to the other, over and over, a pleading expression in place. Leon said quietly, intently, "I know you're scared. So am I. And I know it's hard, but you have to not think about what might be happening to Roxas, and just hope for the best. I _promise _you, we will _find _him. You know how I know?" He stopped, waited. Axel stared for a moment, blinked, shook his head. "Because _Roxas has the core. _You know DiZ won't rest until he has it. You know _none _of them will. It's not just about Roxas – it's about all of Twilight Town. And I know which of those is more important to you, and which is more important to me – but the fact of it is, the core is more important to the ones that matter. And they won't stop, they won't _rest, _until it's recovered. _This means finding Roxas." _He pulled back, keeping his gaze locked on Axel's. "Do you understand now? Are you going to calm down? Because, one way or another, there's no way he's staying missing. As long as he's got the core, there's _always _going to be people searching."

Axel blinked rapidly, fighting the prickle at the back of his eyes. "Why – why can't I help out, at least?"

"Because there's nothing you can do," Leon replied simply. "Anything you're capable of, other people are going to be better at, because they're not hurt, and they're not afraid like you are."

Axel reached up, wiped his face in agitation. "So I just – I just have to lie here, and-and-and, and _hope?" _

The brunet sighed, calmly nodded. "That's correct." He studied Axel, while the redhead absorbed this weight upon his chest and shoulders, withering down into the bed like a lost, frightened child. "Now, you can keep arguing with me," he said quietly, "or you can let me leave. The sooner I get back, the sooner things get started. And if you try anything stupid, the hospital will call me, and I'll have to come _back._ You don't want me to come back, Axel, because that means delaying the search, and it means you get your ass kicked. And not just by me – I don't think Aerith can deal with your crap right now, either. So…" He eyed him cautiously. "Are you going to behave?"

Axel's eyes squeezed shut, hands fisting the blankets. He sank down even further, jaw tightening as his teeth jammed hard together. "You know something, Leon? Cloud was right," he choked out. "You're a fucking asshole."

"Yeah, well, Cloud's unconscious right now," the man snapped back. "Don't think you're the only one suffering."

The redhead sagged. "Fine. Whatever. Get out of my room, I need to sleep." Shaking his head, Leon turned to leave. He reached the door, and was stopped one more time, by an afterthought. "Leon – is Cloud going to wake up?" It was asked hesitantly, voice small. He paused, a hand on the doorframe.

"They say so. It's just taking a while."

Axel breathed out a sigh, sounding ancient. "I guess you just need to be patient, huh?"

Leon's knuckles whitened. "No," he muttered to himself. "It'll kill him. And then Aerith will kill _me. _And there'll be two blonds without boyfriends."

"Leon?"

He lifted his eyes. "Yes, Axel. Patience."

"…Okay, then." Leon glanced back over his shoulder, mildly startled at the tone. It was like… listening to someone say they're about to die. It was a little like listening to Vaan. Axel's face was drawn and bleak. "I'll… be good."

Leon nodded, opened the door, left him to his overwhelming fears. There was a commotion going on, as he travelled back towards the elevators. As he passed the nurses' station, he heard one woman hiss, _"How do a critically injured man and a woman with _rabbit's ears _just stroll out of a hospital without anybody _noticing?!"

Leon felt a stab of sadness – Vaan had been well and truly abandoned now.

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Roxas was sleeping. He was exhausted – even as he slept, he could feel it pulling at his limbs like great shackles, heavy chains, dragging him under even though he was already submerged. There was a sickness to the sensation, a feeling that maybe _no _amount of rest would ever make it up. He could stay like this for a thousand years, and still wake needing a thousand more. He was drowning.

But… there was something pulling at him. Something calling him back to the world of the woken, tugging at his drifting leadenness. He was torn – did he want to fight this, and stay where he was, or clutch it to climb his way back to consciousness?

"_Roxas…"_

Someone was touching him, a gentle line being drawn from the base of his ear, stroking slowly along his jaw, to finish at his lips with a tingle. It would then repeat, a constant, soothing motion. He frowned slightly, sighed softly, twitched. His muscles started to shift of their own accord. Moments later, there was pain – it jolted through with the movement, brought him gasping into reality, breaking instantly into sweat. The touch paused, a hand laying gently across his cheek. His eyes rolled, unfocused. "Axel?"

"No, dear one. It's me."

He blinked sharply, the world falling into place, the green eyes a quarter-inch from his own registering as foreign. He choked, wrenched back, but the hand was quicker, seizing his earlobe and tugging just as quickly forward. Roxas let out a cry, eyelids stinging, his ear almost ripping a little at the force. He jammed his mouth into the pillow, gulping in air, trembling. "So, who may I ask is present right now?" the cold voice demanded, a smile in place, amusement underlying it all. He shook the boy's head, still grasping the soft, fatty tissue, bringing forth another choked exclamation from his lips, a keening whine of bewilderment and pain. "Come on, now, don't be shy – what's your name today, war-orphan?"

"Roxas," he yelped, vision blurring. "I'm Roxas!"

There was a pause. Then the touch gentled again. "Roxas," the man said musingly. He resumed the stroking of the blond's face, though this time it didn't feel soothing or good – it sent sour saliva flooding through the boy's mouth, throat clutching. His shaking increased. "I'm not sure whether to be disappointed or not… You were so compliant before…" His eyes glinted, a strand of silvery hair fluttering down across the bridge of his nose as he settled again more firmly into the pillow. They were on a bed – somewhere. Where _was _he? "No matter," the man murmured, a little smile in place. "It's more fun making puppets out of real people, anyway… You'll do so marvellously, Roxas, I know you will. You'll be my puppet… and I'll be your Sephiroth. We don't need anything else."

"I – I want to go home," Roxas hurried out in a whisper. The man leaned forward, Roxas cringing as his lips brushed the clammy skin of his forehead. They were warm, wet, leaving a buzzing in their wake. It took every ounce of his self-control to not start scrubbing at the site. "You _are _home, little war-orphan. Little Roxas, little Cloud. You're home with _me." _His fingers traced the shell of Roxas' ear, as he sweetly added, "And if you try to run from me again, little Cloud, little Roxas, you little shit, I'll tear your ear _off _next time. I might even use my teeth."

Roxas' eyes slipped shut. The weariness was pulling at him again, summoned by the terror in his chest that begged for this to be over. The lips touched him a second time, on the nose – wasn't that where Axel had first kissed him? His face would never be the same again. He was tainted now.

"But only because I love you."

The stranger devotedly wiped each tear as they came, denying him even that.


	42. Chapter 42

**A/N: **Yaaaay, three-day update schedule! And do you know _why _it's yay? Because, for once, I'm not exhausted at the end of the chapter! I don't want to split open my skull and throw my brain hard and far to give it some form of holiday! So, okay, _you _guys don't _immediately _benefit, but I definitely enjoyed this chapter more, and I think it turned out farrrrr, farrrrrr better as a result. And isn't this just so much nicer than me keyboard mashing with frustration? (Psst, the answer's 'yes'). :D Don't worry, it's not going to become four, five, six then a month – the story is as important to me as ever, but that kind of update regime has been becoming steadily more and more punishing, and that equals eventual burn-out. I'd really, really rather not! Much love, you guys!

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CHAPTER FORTY-TWO

It wasn't a mattress, but simply sheets strewn together on the floor, forest-green and white, with the two pillows laid over the top. The silver-haired man eased up onto an elbow, twisting to bring his knees up, the sheets sliding slightly as he pushed up to his feet. "I don't believe we've been formally introduced," he smirked, crossing the room. Roxas' eyes darted, taking in the wooden walls, the flat roof. It was small, stifling, the size of two garden sheds joined together. Roxas didn't know where the hell he was. There was nothing familiar here at all. "I am _Sephiroth. _I told that – _friend _of yours, a while back, but one can't rely on exes to pass this sort of information along…"

"He's not my ex," Roxas said instantly, hoarse. A second later, his teeth clicked shut again. Green eyes were narrowed at him, as the man sat on the lone wooden chair in front of what could ambitiously be called a window, but was in fact – plastic sheeting nailed over a gap in the wall? Murky light filtered through. The chair creaked, Sephiroth propping his elbows on his knees as he proceeded to slowly tug the black gloves from his hands.

"Well, he's not your current anymore, either," he said quietly, a thread of darkness running through each word. "You made a mistake with him…" Roxas closed his eyes. "So." He was all smiles suddenly, one glove free, pressed the side of his face as he tipped his head to the side. "I've introduced _my_self. How about you tell me a little of _your_self? Name, age, occupation."

Roxas glared weakly. "You already know my name. Stop – playing games with me. What do you even want?"

His aggressor snorted a slight laugh, sliding down in the chair, legs stretching lazily out until they were only a couple of feet from Roxas' left hand. He moved on to the second glove. "My, you certainly _are _different today, aren't you? So, what's the deal with that, kid? The mother thing. What the fuck's up with _those _issues?"

Roxas glared, not answering. Disliking the vulnerability of his position, eyes fixed on the muddy bottoms of the boots, he pushed himself slowly to sitting. Pain blazed through his ribs and hands, stabbing like knives, bringing a small, hatefully-released grunt of anguish. The silver-haired man watched every motion, the shine in his eyes hovering on some brink between hunger and amusement. Now able to wrap his arms around his middle, coated in a film of sweat, blood throbbing mercilessly, Roxas darted his gaze around more fully. He froze, all too obviously, upon seeing the exit to the cabin-like arrangement, simple brown door shut tight.

Sephiroth followed his gaze, lips twitching. "By all means, try it if you want – we're in the middle of a forest. It would be entertaining to see how far you got before that poor abused little body of yours collapsed." He pursed his mouth thoughtfully, brow creasing slightly as he added, "Of course, I'd have to drag you back by your hair." He leaned forward sharply, tumbling onto his knees, snatching a handful of the blond spikes and shaking hard. Roxas cried out, hands automatically jumping up, one grasping the slender wrist, the other pounding the meat of the forearm with his knuckles. Laughing with a cruel edge, the man released him, pupils dilated. He slapped him none-too-gently with the gloves, leaving a sting on his face to match that of his scalp. Breath hitching, Roxas covered his head with his torn, blood-crusted hands, glaring out through shimmering vision as Sephiroth stood and went to the far side of the room.

"What do you _want _with me?" the blond demanded, panting harshly. "You're not really Sephiroth. Sephiroth _died."_

Something flew across the room, a small jar colliding with the boy's cheekbone. An expletive burst from Roxas' lips, fierce rage prompting him to snatch the object up and blindly hurl it back. His aim was off, the man caught it easily a foot to his right and flung it straight down again, just as sharply as the first time. It cracked against Roxas' skull, making the blond howl. Roxas' fingers dug into his scalp, rocking from side to side, the movement upsetting his other injuries, turning his existence to fire. In the new silence, the man quietly said, "I _am _Sephiroth."

Roxas shuddered in a gasp and croaked, equally softly, "No, you're not."

The man crossed to him in three long steps, eyes glittering, teeth bared. Roxas glanced up, saw him coming, let out a low, frightened cry and started to scramble back. For a second time, his hair was seized. He was wrenched to his feet, thrown against the wall, groaning. A hand jammed around his throat, bruises flaring at the roughness, those shining teeth with their threat of ear-tearing a bare two centimetres from his nose, the smell of his breath floating into Roxas' senses. Instinct screamed, and Roxas fell still.

The man was breathing hard, chest and shoulders heaving, gaze fixed unnervingly on the blond's lips, as if, at any moment, he would take a bite. The green eyes flicked up, intense under silver brows. "Watch your mouth, war-orphan," he said softly. His fingertips gentled to stroke the expanse of neck, feather-light. Roxas swallowed, the touch pausing briefly, a nail inserting with faint threat into the soft skin under his chin. "You should be better behaved than that. After all…" He lifted his other hand, fist curled around an object. "I have this..."Two fingers unfurled, revealing a glimpse of midnight velvet. Roxas jerked against his grasp, a zap of shock running through his muscles.

"Mother!"

A brow rose. "Mother?"

Roxas was frozen in place, no longer mindful of his many injuries, eyes wide. "Please," he muttered, lips numb. "Please, don't hurt mother."

Eyes narrowing, the man directed his gaze to the box, bringing it up to rest on a dais of fingertips, studying it. "It's just a little ball," he said, a faint sneer in his tone.

"Just – don't hurt mother," the blond insisted, heart thumping.

"I'm confused," Sephiroth murmured coldly. "I don't like you acting like this." He straightened, tucked the box behind his back, stepped back, eyes travelling slowly up and down the teen. His lip curled briefly. "Stop acting weak. You don't even _have _a mother, stupid little boy. Your mother died."

Roxas blinked rapidly. "Mother is real."

"Tch." A disgusted noise. He turned, stalked back across the room, bent to where a black rucksack lay and tucked the core away, Roxas following every motion with his faintly panicked gaze. "That stuff I threw – it's a balm," the man said shortly, not turning around as he dug through the bag. "You can use it on your wounds. I had a look at the cuts on your thigh while you were sleeping – they're deep. I didn't feel like sewing them up, though." He turned with a brilliant smile. "I prefer scars." He threw across a roll of bandage, it bounced at the blond's feet. "Take off your pants and clean yourself up. I didn't bother, and there might be infection. I'd rather you didn't become gangrenous. It wouldn't fit."

"Wouldn't… fit?" Roxas was dazed from having the core so close, thoughts jumbled.

"Cloud doesn't have gangrene," he replied rationally. His tone sharpened. "Now, get to it."

Sense returned. There was no way Roxas was taking off his pants in front of this guy. He scowled. The man saw his stubbornness, flared slightly, then subsided almost as quickly. "Yes," he murmured, eyelids dropping slightly. "That's right. That defiance – it's fine." Roxas was left feeling uncertain. His head and face pounded where the small jar had hit. It just added to the medley shaking his body. He sucked in a slow breath, sinking down the wall with a flutter of panic. He knew enough to realise he wasn't going to be racing off anytime soon – this meant he had to stay here, with this – this _madman. _And the madman had mother. His stomach churned, at the memory of that breath mingling with his, the comprehension of his… his complete and utter helplessness. His vision went briefly white, an extra powerful throb inside his chest, as he contemplated his future. Hurriedly, his mind withdrew from that series of possibilities, cast time away to exist in the one moment in which he was gasping. There was nothing else he could do.

"Are you hungry, dear?" Sephiroth asked, sudden pleasantness lacing his tone. He was still bent over the rucksack. "I have some bread here for you. I thought we could eat together."

"I… I'm not hungry," Roxas said quietly, drawing into himself, eyes lowering. The one calling himself Sephiroth faltered, straightened slowly.

"It's dinnertime, though. We always eat together at dinnertime."

"Look – " Roxas lost patience. "I'm not Cloud, okay? I'm not Cloud any more than you're Sephiroth. So… so, who the fuck are you, anyway?"

The man tucked the bag against his stomach, a small frown creasing his forehead. "Why are you acting this way?" he asked, voice low. Roxas took a breath, the words reaching his throat, but a second later, silver hair was streaming, eyes wide and wild, rucksack swinging around to slam into the side of his face. The blond's head thumped the wall, a grunt and nothing more coming out. Sephiroth bent over him, seemed to tower with fury, fists clenched, shoulders hunched as he spat, "What the fuck's the matter Cloud? You look like _you, _I look like _me – _there's no way this won't _work!" _He slapped Roxas suddenly, open-palmed. "Just close your eyes and fucking _pretend." _He paused for a moment, heaving for air, eyes darting all over the teen. Roxas had his face still turned to the side, one eye already swelling shut from whatever had been in the bag, a thin trickle of blood beginning to work its way from the corner of it down the planes of his cheek, like a slow, thick, bright tear. He breathed slowly, deeply, couldn't get enough air from the choking fear in his throat.

"You don't deserve food anymore," the man said sharply. "You want it? You have to _earn _it." He stared down at the boy for a moment longer, then broke away, stalking to the opposite side of the cabin, finding the darker corner and sitting abruptly, hugging the rucksack to his chest. His bright eyes fixed upon Roxas in the dying sunlight that strained through the sheet-plastic. There was nothing, nothing in the world, that frightened him more than the thought of being alone with this insane creature at night. For the _whole _night. Nothing at all.

-------

They were lying side-by-side, moonlight illuminating the room murkily. The madman was asleep, his breaths slow and even, expression peaceful in repose. When Roxas chanced to look over, he was struck by how young he seemed in this light. He could barely have been older than Axel by more than a year or two. His lips were fuller now, not being pulled so constantly by tension and insanity. He looked human.

The blond was already realising how quickly that could change.

He was unpredictable. Roxas wasn't sure how to deal with him, how to do _anything. _He hadn't addressed the teen again after their argument, had lapsed into dark, brooding silence, the tendrils of his sickness crawling across the ceiling, the walls, to smother Roxas and any courage he kept trying to muster. His injuries burned, as if a container filled with fire-ants had been emptied onto the flesh of his right leg and palms, swarming around the sites of the wounds from where the wire had dragged through his flesh the night before. It was like being eaten alive, cell by cell. The agony of it kept him conscious, long after he wished he could have passed out. It wasn't fair, that his tormentor could sleep so peacefully, while he shivered with fright at the realisation that he was sharing the same breathing space as a killer. He turned his head slowly, coming to rest on the beaten half of his face, staring with his wider eye at the stillness of the man's expression. _Oh, God, please let him die and never wake up. Make that breath his last one… or that one… or that one… _Sephiroth just kept breathing.

His words echoed in Roxas' mind, becoming a shout as the pain in his thigh increased – _"...there might be infection. I'd rather you didn't become gangrenous." _Could it end up that bad? What Roxas had seen of it had just been the state of his jeans – black now, stiff with all the blood that had come pouring out, spread wide around his upper leg and delving down to peter out beneath the knee, becoming stray trails. The jar of balm was close by, just on the other side of the bed, beyond where the man slumbered. The bandages had been set beside it. He didn't mind taking care of himself now that he knew the one calling himself Sephiroth wouldn't be watching every moment. He felt frustration, an intense and pure sort of rage at himself, for not having asked more about him at the time. He'd had over a week to find out the details about the madman, but had chosen to leave that part of his life alone, opting to focus on the more immediate troubles. Who knew they'd all end up combining in the end? If he just had some _knowledge, _if he knew for an absolute, unshakable _fact _that the real Sephiroth was dead, and this was some kind of impostor, at least he'd have _something _to cling to. And his relationship with Cloud! Why hadn't he found out more about that? He'd had all that _time… _Hindsight sucked. Really, really badly.

He had stiffened up about an hour after waking, once the adrenaline had died down to reveal the scary weakness beneath. It was impossible to move without pain. He'd reached a point where he either had to stop moving altogether, or just grit his teeth and swallow it down. Accept it. Because to fight it would break him, piece by little piece.

He watched the man for a while, warily, making certain that he was, in fact, definitely asleep. Roxas still didn't even know what the man _wanted _from him – he'd inflicted so much, hurt both Roxas and Axel, and now he _had_ him, but – why? What the hell was the point? Was one overheard conversation, and some sort of physical similarity to Cloud, enough to spark this insanity?

Roxas slowly, teeth gritting, breath catching in his chest, pushed himself up to sitting. He was terrified of disturbing the man, who had insisted on sleeping beside him, even despite his silence. Maybe it was because it was the only excuse for a bed around, but the blond had the sinking feeling that maybe… maybe it was because of the fact that Cloud and Sephiroth shared a bed, once upon a time. That – gave him the shivers. He was almost completely at the man's mercy. He was vulnerable in the presence of a lunatic, who wanted to recreate him in the image of someone he'd once loved… or claimed to love… or still _did… _Ugh, the confusion was making him queasy. What he wouldn't have given for just a glimpse of his jailor's thoughts.

But then… was it really a jail?

Blue eyes travelled slowly over to the door, stayed there for several long minutes. It was locked – it had to be. There was no way it was just… _open. _That would be _asking _for Roxas to run… He grimaced slightly as he unconsciously shifted, pain spiking through his right leg. Well, he wasn't in any condition for it right now anyway. But at least it wasn't the most secure of holding areas – if Roxas was forced to try and escape, he actually had a chance.

He hesitated. To reach the balm, he'd have to lean over Sephiroth. The whole thing reeked of a trap of some kind, designed to terrify, to kick him while he was down. It was like contemplating reaching over a vampire at dusk – should be sleeping, sure, but if he's not… Roxas' eyes narrowed, jaw tightening. He'd do it. He had to. Now was the only time.

He drew a breath, held it firmly in his chest, ribs protesting. One hand splayed with difficulty on the sheets, sliding slightly as he transferred his weight over, careful not to touch the man. He shifted, winced, gaze darting down nervously. Sephiroth slept on, seemingly unaware of the pounding heart and shallow exhalations going on nearby. Silver hair spread on the pillow, long, soft and still, dark lashes touching cheeks without stirring. The lips were parted to allow each inhalation, too close as Roxas stretched flinchingly across his narrow chest, arm hovering high, trying to create an arc over the black leather. He was forced to move his hips, putting sudden pressure on his legs. The agony on his right quads and hamstring wrenched at his head, threatened to send him spinning into a swoon. A drop of moisture rolled from Roxas' forehead, down the line of his nose, shivering and then dropping. It landed with deafening impact upon the hard black surface, certain to wake even the dead.

The temptation to give up and tumble was strong for a moment – holding on was _hard – _but a flash of red in his memory tugged him firmly away from the precipice of fainting. His eyes fluttered open, and Jenova slid back into the recesses of his mind, her final act before relinquishing control to clasp Roxas' fingers around the jar, smallest one hooking the roll of bandage close. Consciousness returned to full capacity with a burst, sent him yanking back. The sharp motion made his knee bump the man, the sheets skidding beneath him on the wooden floor. He drew into himself, breath caught and held, eyes wide as he waited for the glimmering teal-green irises to be revealed, thin from overwhelming pupil.

Nothing. Sephiroth insisted on sleeping. Roxas could almost find the time to envy the ease of it – how long since he had slept that deeply and soundly? Last night, well, he'd…

Last night.

"Oh, _fuck."_ He muffled his mouth, gagged himself with the brown bandage, even as his lips and tongue moved to whisper, _"Axel." _

He hadn't forgotten – no, he hadn't. He'd _been _there, he'd _seen _it, he'd _fought _it, damn it! But… she was still in him. Still nestled between his ears, settled and patient, waiting for when they would leave in the morning – yes, she believed that. She actually believed this was temporary. She was holding the events of the previous night further from his conscious mind, to – save him? Keep him pliable? He _never _forgot what had happened… but she was holding the thoughts of Axel at bay. She had summoned the man's image only to help Roxas cling to waking – did this mean she had realised her mistake in trusting Sephiroth? How could she come to the rescue, but still be exuding confidence that the silver-haired 'saviour' would be returning them home?

_He is a good boy, _came the distant whisper.

"He is _bad," _Roxas hissed around the fabric. Horrified, he jammed it in further, knees rising, and waited for Sephiroth to wake. Mother said nothing more, but the urge to clean himself became strong. There was a smell drifting up from his leg, bitter, metallic, just the slightest bit sweet. Mother wanted him to repair himself. Roxas let out a shuddering sigh, muscles quaking with frailty, and slowly pulled the material from his mouth, tongue dry now, lips cracked. His kept his gaze on Sephiroth as he carefully, painfully crawled back from the makeshift bed, the slip of the sheets becoming cold, smooth wood. His right leg hobbled and dragged after him, not so much participating as hampering. One of the hardest things Roxas ever had to do in his entire life was not cry out then, even softly. He was so sick of tears, yet they sprung to his eyes, stinging hot. He sucked a slow breath through his teeth, tipping his head back, trying not to make a noise against the ground.

By the time he reached the corner of the room, the same one that the silver-haired man had spent the evening sulking in, Roxas was a shaking mess. His weak fingers couldn't hold their load anymore, and the little jar with the thick glass walls went rolling away. He lunged after it, gasping, nearly falling and just _staying _there. But he caught it before it got away, and dragged himself back up to sitting, with all the effort of a mountain-climb. The newest test was to not throw up. It was lucky he didn't have anything in his stomach, hadn't done for over twenty-four hours now, otherwise he'd have had no way to keep it from all bubbling back out.

Despite the fear that urged him to hurry, get this over with before it was noticed that he was missing, Roxas spent the next ten minutes with his head against the wall, eyelids lowered almost completely, waiting for the hot, dizzy churning to leave. The sweat cooled gradually on his brow, clinging to his stinging shoulders, where it seemed more, lesser cuts resided. He lay his legs out straight, taking long, long minutes to do it gradually, not wanting to pull the delicate healing that had already occurred. The one thing he didn't think he could handle right now was more fucking blood. The leftover scent and evidence on his jeans was more than enough to twist his gut and senses.

The worst of the damage, to his mind, was in his hands. He lifted them, gaze skating over the jagged strips, the punctures. Dried, crusted, sick-inducing. He wouldn't be able to function properly like this, not if he was going to ever have a chance of getting away. They were perhaps the more numb of the pair of major injuries, but by far the most distressing. He had to force control into his respiration, to keep from hyperventilating at the horror that spiked through when he studied them. He lowered them unsteadily, picked up the balm with a thumb and forefinger, and lifted it onto his left knee. The cap unscrewed easily, an astringent smell wafting up from the pastel-coloured innards. Just as Roxas was reaching to dip into the cream, he wondered if this wasn't some new trick of his tormentor – what if there was – _acid _in it? Or, or, pepper or something. _Chilli. _Fuck, he gagged at the thought. Painstakingly, he bent a little at the waist, exhausted by now, only able to lower himself slightly, and sniffed cautiously. He tried to assess the different components of the smell, but all it formed in his mind was an impression of medicine. That had to be a good thing, right? Kitchen and salsa would be bad imagery. Medicine meant it was pharmaceutical.

In the end, all he could really do was resign himself to whatever was going to happen. He really needed to get this done, and delaying wasn't going help his nerves or his health. He couldn't shake the idea of gangrene. _Rotting. _Roxas could recall, albeit fuzzily, precisely how he got the wounds, and it scared him to think of the kinds of bacteria and filth that might have entered his bloodstream. For the amount of time he'd been left to fester, wasn't that enough to poison him? What if this sickness had nothing to do with his pain at all, was some kind of grease swimming through his system that was going to kill him in the next twelve hours?

Calm. Breathe. The dizziness was encroaching again, making it hard to think. As easy and ever near the surface as it was, he had to – not panic. Had to keep a cool head. Otherwise, he'd lose it, start screaming, wake the madman. Axel entered his mind again, only this time, it was because Roxas brought the image up, squeezing his eyes shut, the balm's stench swirling around. _Axel. _Axel was out there somewhere, waiting for his Roxie to come home. If the blond concentrated, cut through the haze, he could hear his voice in his head, with its mocking twang even when he was being loving. He could see the eyes, brighter green that the ones he'd seen lately, purer, filled with fire rather than ice and alienation. Roxas could feel him, wrapping his arms around the teen, could almost imagine that it was possible to just open his eyes and find himself back in the castle. It was all… so close. So _recent. _Perhaps that was why it stung so much, when he opened his eyes and found himself… still here. Willing alone didn't save you, didn't transport you back to safer ground and caring caresses.

Yes, Axel was out there. And he was hurt. And he'd be worried about Roxas, the blond _knew _it, knew he wouldn't be blamed, _couldn't _be. Axel _knew _Roxas would never hurt him. But if the blond didn't return sometime soon, didn't figure out a way out of this new nightmare and back to the castle… Axel wouldn't survive. It occurred to him slowly, blowing a coldness through his veins. Axel had held on all this time, watching and waiting, pouring his soul into someone who wasn't even going to necessarily appreciate his heart on a platter. He had given it without hesitation, and didn't want it back, because, rightfully, it belonged to Roxas now. Axel had no stake in it at all. However… one needed a heart in order to live, one way or another. Being in the vicinity of its beating kept him cheerfully alive, but if you take the heart and its bearer away… you leave him with an empty chest. Axel… didn't _have_ a heart anymore. It was within this cabin, in the middle of some nameless forest Roxas didn't even know. Keep the flesh and its reason for being separate for too long, and it was inevitable that it would fail, would break down, would simply cease to be.

So Roxas wasn't just trying to save himself anymore, he realised. When he was finally able to try, that is. He had to do it for Axel, as well. And… this meant he had to try sooner. He wasn't sure how long the redhead would last. He turned his gaze downward to the little jar, poised a finger above it, dipped it into the cold mixture and drew it out again. He hesitated, wondering whether to just smear it all over or concentrate on certain areas. In the end, he settled on just… just spreading it in a thin, all-over coat. It hurt like hell, stung, renewed the fire-ants' determination to devour him. His eyes watered from the faint fumes, making it feel like they'd had a layer peeled off, leaving the rawness underneath to deal with the punishment.

By the time both hands had been done, the balm rubbed as far into the slashes as he dared to endure, Roxas was panting, trembling, jerking. His skin was smeared red from where the dried blood had been dampened and spread. His flesh was buzzing, no longer numb, sensitive now, consumed. Small tears clung to his eyelashes, and he wasn't even finished yet. Closing his eyes, he reached down with feeble fingers and unbuttoned his jeans, drew down the fly as gradually as he could to not further disturb the silence that hovered thickly through the cabin. When his eyes did open again, they were staring in the direction of the window, filled with longing. It was so close, the ability to leave… But as he lowered his gaze to his leg, peeling his jeans down to his knees, chest hitching at the agony of it all, he realised he wasn't going to be capable of it yet – not tonight. He'd thought his hands were the worst. He'd been wrong. He closed his eyes, teeth clenching, and bit back the choke of despair that welled in his throat. This was going to hurt, so badly. But it had to be done.

-------

Roxas wasn't sure if it was exhaustion, the pain finally knocking him out, or some other reason that made him sleep peacefully through the night. A cocktail, perhaps. It seemed ridiculous, to be caught in this sticky web of one dilemma after the next, yet be able to dream benignly. He'd have expected – _nightmares. _Monsters, evil men riding out of the shadows, Axel dead or dying, a host of friends gathered around blaming him for the misfortune of the world, hell, even just one of the more regular ones where you can't move properly, to highlight his helplessness – but there was none of that. The one time he had reason to, more than ever, and his subconscious instead chose to take him drifting. Maybe it was just a case of the brain knowing what was good for it – if there was no escape from the tension, a perpetual trap of waking from one nightmare only to plunge into the next, he was certain to lose his mind. Perhaps this was just self-preservation kicking in, to allow him time to heal and recover. But then again, maybe it was the lack of sleep-walking. For the first time in weeks, he dreamed, yet didn't visit the playground. It had been destroyed, had been consumed by mother. She had no reason to plague him anymore, since she had already taken over. Roxas could feel her, watching him sleep, patiently waiting for daylight to come.

Even as he dreamed, though, some part of him remained lucid, aware of the cold ground – he had chosen to stay in the corner, couldn't face dragging himself back to lie down next to that man – of the quality of light, first moon, then sun, conscious of the other slumberer nearby, ready to snap back to alertness if danger seemed apparent. As the one calling himself Sephiroth began to stir, early morning, just past dawn, Roxas woke, heart clenching. The sounds of movement sent spikes of adrenaline through his over-stressed system, brought his nerve endings to life, tingling. The pain from the night didn't seem so bad in the face of the fear. It was smothered by the shadow that gripped his lungs. He hadn't even known how much this all frightened him, until the moment the man awakened.

Roxas pretended to be asleep. He didn't want to have to face this, not now, not ever. Postponing the inevitable, maybe, but this was what his panic demanded – play dead.

Sephiroth grunted, the sheets rustling before his boots found the floor, clomping. He came over to where the blond lay, stopped. Interminable silence. Heart jazzing in Roxas' chest, sore against unhealed ribs, pulsing at his temples with vertigo.

"_Cloud…" _Roxas' eyes squeezed tighter without thought, giving him away in a heartbeat. The man crouched, fingers gentle as they brushed through his spikes, down his cheek, tapping thoughtfully at the bruising. "Why do you always sleep somewhere else?" He sounded… mournful. "Why don't you come to bed anymore? Is it because I repulse you?"

Blue eyes sprang incredulously open, to meet sad green irises. "I don't even _know _you. Let me go. I'm not Cloud," he said hoarsely. A hand on his waist, light, making him flinch.

"Don't say that. I know we can work things out, Cloud." He smiled. "We always do, don't we?"

"I'm not – _Cloud."_

The hand became a claw, finding the exact site of his cracked ribs, fingers digging in viciously, face briefly contorted into a snarl of rage. "That's not right. Now is when you agree! Now is the time for you to say you're sorry!" Roxas cried out and writhed, a low scream echoing through the room. _"Say it! Say it, Cloud, say you're sorry!"_

"_I'm sorry," _the boy wailed, as the man just about tried to rip a chunk out of his side with his bare hands.

"Sorry _who? Who am I?" _He pulled away, slapped the blond sharply across his swelling.

"_Sephiroth! I'm sorry Sephiroth!" _Roxas crumbled into tears, howling, as Sephiroth drew back, face pale. He was sweating, strands of silver hair clinging to his face. The fury melted slowly, to emptiness, then to horror, remorse, as Roxas forced himself quiet, sucking erratic breaths through his nose as he bit the inside of his lips for silence. His skin had turned pasty grey, clammy, waves of sick white prickles sweeping over his body, his vision.

"I… I'm sorry," the man said quietly, sounding almost confused. "I don't know why I hurt you. I never… never normally hurt you." There was a long pause. "Baby?" He laid a hand on Roxas' face, the boy flinching, unable to shift away, closing his eyes hard against the world. "I'm sorry, too," the soft voice admitted. "I just – it hurts me, waking up and finding you've slept somewhere else. It's like you can't stand to be near me anymore."

Roxas didn't answer this time, tasted blood as he sank his teeth deeper, struggling to keep the weeping in. Sephiroth's hands were gentle, careful, yet merciless as they pulled the blond up to sitting. Roxas' lips burst apart with a low moan, arms hanging by his sides. Every inhalation was agony now. He could still feel those same fingers burying into his skin, as if they could meet inside him, snap the ribs free one by one. It felt as if he already had. There was a bonelessness to the boy, a complete lack of energy, of strength. His mind had slowed with the shock, become addled and thick. Sephiroth's hands found the teen's face, brushing away the perspiration, swiping it down the sides of his jaw. "You're so beautiful," he murmured. "Everything about you. You make me better just by existing, Cloud, did you know that?" He smiled, kissed his forehead, whispered, "But of course you do. You know everything about this soul of mine, don't you? You see straight through every wall…" Another kiss, on the boy's temple. "…and into the heart I didn't even know was there…" On his cheek. "…until you came along." His mouth, which was slack, brain barely registering that he was being kissed, gently at first and then passionately. It was only when those hands began to wander that Roxas blinked back into his skull, rising from the fog of his daze. "Don't," he begged voicelessly, as Sephiroth's touch spread down his skin, beneath his shirt, across his chest. The man had shifted to suckle the corner of his jaw, his body creeping forward, sitting intimately close on Roxas' left thigh. Fingers stroked the underside of his chin. "I know you still love me," Sephiroth whispered, eyes fluttering shut. "You love it when I touch you like this, don't you? You always said it drove you wild…"

It sickened Roxas. Every time their flesh met, it left a rotten, burning hole. Every motion meant to be seductive soured his stomach, left a bitterness at the back of his tongue, in amongst the taste of blood. His chest began to heave, panic returning, as he realised the man wasn't planning on stopping. Despite Roxas' lack of response, his obvious recoiling, he continued with growing ardour, murmuring sweet nothings and almost seeming to pretend he was receiving them back. The blond squirmed, lifted his clumsily bandaged hands, push without power at his shoulders. His wrists were caught, pressed together, that mouth back on his, that tongue pressing through. Roxas began to struggle, as best as he could, but every pitiful attempt was swept aside and replaced with yet more excitement. Sephiroth's breaths had increased, he was building himself up, acting as if this was some meeting of kindred sexual souls, beginning to groan softly at each touch. With horror, Roxas realised his pathetic writhing was pushing his thigh into the man's groin.

"I'm going to make you feel so good, Cloud…"

"Get off!" he commanded suddenly, voice tight and high. "Get off, get off, get _off of me!"_

"But this is what we _do," _the man sighed into his ear, hands moving lower, plucking at the button of his jeans. "We fight, baby, and then we make up, and tell each other how much we love each other."

"_I'm not Cloud," _the blond hissed through clenched teeth, _"and you're not Sephiroth." _A hand inserted itself down into his underwear, making him whimper, throat thickening, hands shaking but clutched hard in one of the man's.

"We are," he crooned, "we are. I know you like this." Roxas pushed with his elbows, head throwing from side to side, hating it, _hating that touch._ Did he expect this to work? Did he expect Roxas to be _aroused? _"I don't want to, I don't _want _to," he cried brokenly. "Stop it!" His eyes squeezed shut as Sephiroth stroked the flaccid flesh, able to feel every uncomfortable callus in the man's fingers, every rough slide, and he couldn't even _move, _was in too much pain, was held too tightly. _"Stop it!" _he gasped, a sob breaking free, because there was nothing, _nothing he could do. _

And then there was silence, and darkness, and a mother's cool embrace.

Blue eyes flashed open, hard, glinting. Operating at three-quarter capacity, half-strength, motivated by cold outrage, his right wrist wrenched to the side, slipping out of the man's grip, palm falling down and then cracking across his face with stunning force. There was pain, but it was inconsequential. There was awkward discomfort, but it was easily manoeuvred. Roxas glared icily, as the slap-reddened face turned back to him, green eyes round, breathing hard. "Wh-what? Cloud!" Anger blossomed on the saviour's face, matched and overwhelmed by the ice in the teen's.

"You will not touch us this way," Roxas said, voice capable of cutting glass. "This behaviour is that belonging to a bad boy, not the good boy mother thought you were. Roxas is in pain, he is crying again. Mother heard the tears in his head and came. Mother _will _protect her son, and _you will remove your hand from Roxas' pants." _

Sephiroth did as bidden, startled by the fury pulsing the air, the frigid power within the eyes that warned him a line had been crossed.

"My son is not your _plaything," _Jenova said sharply. "He may be your love, and for that I grant you grace, but Roxas _has _a love, and _you are not he. _When Roxas was with his love physically, he was happy, mother felt his joy even from a distance. When you touch Roxas like the good boy touches Roxas, he is _unhappy. _We feel this, we feel it _acutely, _and we deduce that you can sense it _also. _So _why _do you persist?" Her gaze sliced into him. "What is your name?"

The silver-haired man gaped. "I – I'm Sephiroth."

Her eyes narrowed. "We have been exchanging small amounts of proximal data in the hours past, and I now know that _you are not General Sephiroth. _He is dead – he had physical differences to you that do not match your profile. So tell me who you are!"

"I – I _am _Sephiroth," he insisted, a frantic flash in his expression.

"Get off my son, _now." _The man scrambled back. With a mother's tempest, Roxas' body was quickly examined for fresh injuries. None were found. Her gaze found him harshly. "Roxas needs sustenance and medical attention immediately, he is far too physically weak, and this affects his coping abilities. Your treatment of him is abysmal – you do not act towards him as his own love does, which leads me to assume that Roxas is not your love at _all. _If indeed he is, you will change your behaviour, and you will do so _quickly." _Blue eyes tightened, studying the astounded man. "I am not leaving until my son is being taken care of."

Sephiroth blinked rapidly, bewildered. "Who _are _you?"

"I have already introduced myself," she replied sharply. "It is high time you did the same. I am Roxas' _mother."_

"He doesn't _have _a mother," the man bellowed suddenly, face twisting savagely.

"_I am his mother," _she thundered back, each word clipped and severe.

"_And I'm Sephiroth," _he screamed, losing control. He lunged for the teen, fist flying, but the blow was caught, his wrist twisted hard to the right, then smashed back into his own face. He tumbled back, lay still for a stunned moment. When he raised his head, shocked, she was watching him calmly.

"Alright then," she reasoned. "You are Sephiroth, as I am Roxas' mother. I understand." There was confusion, a trickle of red appearing from one nostril, from where his knuckles had been forced. "Roxas needs medical attention," he was reminded. He blinked several times, to clear his head.

"You – you're…" He frowned. "Where did you _come _from?"

"From Roxas, of course," was the placid response. He hesitated.

"Roxas?"

"Yes," she confirmed. The man's bewilderment increased.

"Then – where's Cloud?"

"Why do you need him?"

This question seemed to stump. Slowly, Sephiroth lowered himself at the boy's feet. Quietly, he went to work, not saying another word, until Roxas' injuries were at last properly taken care of.


	43. Chapter 43

**A/N: **Hey, guys :) Not much to say about this one, really, just glad to have it done. Didn't get everything into it that I wanted, but that's generally how I operate anyway :D I'll get it done to satisfaction next chapter. Oh, also – to the reviewers I haven't replied to yet, a million apologies and a banana, but I'm so tired right now – you have my love and appreciation? I've already worked out a new system for getting them all done from now on, but I staggered them too much this time :( I STEEELL LUUUURVE YOU THOOO!

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CHAPTER FORTY-THREE

Mother took Roxas over to the bed and lay down, allowing his body to rest after the ordeal of having his wounds disturbed yet again. The silver-haired man packed away the healing items into the black rucksack, tugged the bag into his arms, and settled down in the corner, hunched, knees drawn up, staring. His gaze was fixed upon the blond, unshifting, swallowing down every movement he made in an attempt to relax. At last, a frustrated noise came from across the room. "This sleeping arrangement is not sufficient for Roxas' needs," he complained. "You haven't catered to his physical necessities."

Sephiroth blinked slowly, didn't answer, lowered his face into his thighs, turning it to one side to gaze emptily at the wall. Roxas' head twisted around, features drawn with annoyance. "Are you ignoring mother?" he demanded. "I am about to make a request. I hope that you do not ignore me." Still no response. "Saviour that calls himself Sephiroth, I require an increased level of comfort for Roxas' body to recover sufficiently from its injuries. There is infection, and his temperature continues to rise. While his position is awkward like this, he cannot gain the maximum amount of rest, which leaves him open to further illness." Silence. "Are you listening? I am speaking to you directly. Is there a miscommunication occurring? Has there been a failure of some form which is rendering you incapable of hearing Roxas' voice?" Loud suddenly. "Am I not speaking with sufficient volume?" Sephiroth sank further into himself, didn't reply, didn't twitch except to nuzzle further into his bag. His eyes continued to stare. Jenova was puzzled. "I don't believe he is ignoring mother. He shows no signs of having heard her speak. Perhaps there has been a hardware failure of some form." She sighed. "I will have to discern the malfunction. Hopefully mother will not have to repair him, since her abilities here are few." Roxas sat up, gradually but efficiently. He stood, weight heavy on one foot, and hobbled over to where the silver-haired man sat. "Man that calls himself Sephiroth," Jenova said loudly, standing in front of him. "If you can hear mother, lift your head. Give some sign of recognition." She poked him with a toe. "Child, can you hear me?"

Sephiroth turned his face, buried it deeper, lifted the bag and placed it over the back of his head. Roxas frowned. "So you _can _hear me. Do you pretend not to because you are sad? Are you sulking?"

A high noise came from the man, tiny and faint. Blue eyes narrowed, Roxas stepping back a little to get a better look at him. The sound came again, shakily. Then again – and a moment later, Sephiroth was laughing. His face came up, mouth stretched wide, gasping in each breath and letting out a staccato burst of giggles on the exhalation. Tears built up quickly, streaming down his face, the sound growing wilder, more hysterical. Jenova stared blankly. Perhaps a minute passed, in which the man grew only shriller, before she commanded, "Stop this, you are acting foolishly."

He sucked in a screeching breath, reached up a hand to push the hair from his eyes, and suddenly yelled, "Shut up, you fucking crazy-ass _bitch!" _He shoved sharply at Roxas' knees, making the boy buckle with a gasp. He landed hard on the ground, scabs tearing in his thigh, howling out a curse before Jenova reclaimed things, muscled him back and glared at the snarling man, all humour dissipated. "Things were _fine _before you came along," he cried. "We were doing just _fine. _Roxas and I can live _without _you, he doesn't need his _mommy _holding his hand!"

"Roxas was unhappy with you," Jenova replied firmly. "He does not belong here with you in the middle of an undisclosed forest location. You need to take him home."

Green eyes widened. "Home?" He choked a little. _"Home? _Roxas doesn't _have _a home, lady, Roxas doesn't even have a _mother, _whatever you want to call yourself!"

"It is true that Roxas' birth-mother died, but I am mother to many that have lost their own," she argued rationally. "If you are unaware of the details, you should stop claiming that Roxas' mother is not in fact his mother."

"So – so – " He was back to laughing. "So, what? You adopt orphans, do you? Want to add me to that? My mom died _years_ ago! How come _I _never got someone who wanted to be my replacement mother?" And again, rapid mood-swing, resentment pouring from every word, a poisonous gush from his eyes, his lips. "Why should he get one just because he's a war-orphan? Stupid little war-orphan, thought he was suffering because he was in a closed environment, huh? _Stupid motherfucking war-orphan!" _He bellowed the last part, lunged for Roxas, grabbed him by the ears and started shaking, Jenova gasping and pushing at his chest. "What I wouldn't have given! _What I wouldn't have given for that sort of peace!"_

"_Unhand me!"_

"I'll fucking _unhand you, _you piece of _shit!" _He threw Roxas to the ground, even Jenova unable to quite disconnect entirely from the shoots of pain stinging the sides of their head, the jolts that came from slamming down into the wood. She was dazed, blinking rapidly, attempting to reassert control over both Roxas' body and the situation. Sephiroth stalked across the room, black bag forgotten on the ground. From under the edge of the bed-sheets he snatched the long case of his sword, drew the shining steel out with a rough scrape against the hard leather, whipped around with burning eyes and advanced upon the struggling blond figure. "You really want to break this up, don't you? You want me to take your little boy home, let him just be _happy, _while I? I just _rot, _I sit here and think about the past and _ROT!" _Spit flew, rage spinning tendrils through the air, whipping and thrashing. "You want to go _home, _war-orphan? You want to _run from me?"_ He brought the sword up in both hands, screamed, _"Hold out your arms!"_

"Enough of this," Jenova commanded breathlessly, affected by the adrenaline spearing through Roxas' veins, the thunder of his heart. "You will _not _hurt Roxas!"

"Give me a good reason," he hissed. "Give me _one _fucking reason not to!"

"He is my son," came the defiant response. "He deserves happiness. He has suffered enough at my hands – I will not let you compound this by punishing him for my own miscalculations. It is obvious to me now that you are not stable enough for statements that contradict the beliefs of which you have convinced yourself. You desire to harm mother for challenging your tenuous grip on reality, and wish her gone. Therefore, I shall leave. I will relinquish Roxas into your care, but _only_ as long as you do not mistreat him – are we understood?" He eyed her wildly for a moment, hovering on a vital edge. His gaze narrowed, head tilting slightly to the side. The sword relaxed slightly.

"You'll go? You'll leave us alone?" he demanded.

"For as long as Roxas doesn't need me," she replied sharply. "Just like any mother."

His eyes became slits, hands tensing around the hilt. A moment later, he nodded. "Fine. Get out."

She paused, studying him. "You and Roxas are alike. Both have lost mothers. Mother has love for all her children, though they were not hers to begin with…" She pursed her lips. "Mother still believes you to be a good boy, despite your downfalls. She will think. She is thinking of how to make you better."

"_Get out," _he hissed. Roxas eyed him a few moments longer, before slumping over backwards, dead to the world. His head gave a _thunk_ as it hit the floor. The one calling himself Sephiroth heaved a deep breath, hair sticking inside his open mouth as he did so. He licked his lips, spat, lifted one hand to scrape them away, sword dipping abruptly without the extra support. He stared at Roxas' limp form, a flurry of thoughts running through his cracked mind. The blond looked – young, and small. Weak. Vulnerable.

"That's not right," he muttered to himself, eyes dropping, flicking around restlessly. His brows drew together in a scowl. "That's – not right." He pulled the sword to his body, hugged the length of the blade against his chest, cheek pressed to the hilt. He took a few shuffling steps back, gaze emptying, seeing less and less of the unconscious teenager, the cabin. He turned, started over towards the corner, stopped suddenly, hitching in a breath. He spun around, snatching up the rucksack, clutching it along with the sword. He unzipped it, dug frantically through its contents for a moment, panic lighting his eyes. Whatever he was searching for, he touched a moment later. His posture sagged, legs almost giving out with relief. He hugged the bag tightly for a moment, took small steps over to the corner to sit, cross-legged, holding both objects awkwardly across his lap, as close to his heart as he could pull them. The sword stuck out at an uncomfortable angle, scraping the wooden slats. The man inhaled shakily, abruptly exhausted by the emotional turmoil of the morning so far. Things weren't meant to be like this. Cloud was supposed to be happy to be with him. Roxas. Roxas was supposed to be happy. With him. So they could… So things could…

Tears, one after another, eyelashes wet and clinging, a long, miserable sniff. "I hate you so much," he said hoarsely. "God, I hate you." He drew a breath, head tilting back, wailed, _"I fucking hate you!" _Still weeping, he drew the bag up to his head, using it for a pillow against his knees. "Sephiroth…"

Gradually his breaths slowed, and the man that called himself Sephiroth fell asleep.

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"I have to go to the bathroom." Roxas' voice was ragged, quiet. He had slept most of the day away, held down by mother for his safety and recovery. Some part of her had obviously finally realised that no, this guy wasn't the pillar of goodness she'd at first assumed simply upon the retrieval of the core. Which, in the end, they still didn't really possess. Except for that first time, when Roxas had been allowed to carry it until eventually falling unconscious in the man's arms between the terminal and whatever godforsaken place he'd been brought to, his only glimpse of the core had been just before the near-rape. Roxas… still got shivers about it all. If it hadn't been for mother… But – she was gone now. She was silent. He only hoped she would come again, if he needed her. It was no small thing, giving up his body to this entity inside his skull, but lately, it had become… necessary. He was depending on her more and more.

Sephiroth looked up blankly, from his task of applying some kind of polish to the reaching blade of his sword. Up til then, he had completely ignored the boy's existence, not even glancing over when Roxas had started shifting his limbs cautiously around. Now the boy sat huddled in the sheets, cold despite the sweat on his face. His hands and leg itched, each and every slash throbbing with its own powerful little heart. His thigh felt as though insects had got under the bandages, were swarming, crawling, miniature legs pricking with every step.

He had drawn into himself slightly, watched the man warily, as if expecting his sudden breaking of the standoffish silence to send him into a fit of dismemberment. The way Roxas figured it, it was entirely possible. But damn it, he'd been holding on for over an hour. Two days of malnutrition were catching up, his body now attempting to flush itself of toxins in the face of its building lack of health and near-fasting state. Add to that the small amount of food and water he _had _ingested, while under mother's influence, and Roxas was an uncomfortable kidnap victim. He hadn't wanted to address the man, no matter the calm vibes mother insisted on exuding whenever he came to mind, but his need became too great. The last goddamn thing he needed was his bladder giving out. He _wasn't _going to suffer that indignity, not for a _second. _

He waited for the answer, which was, at first, not forthcoming. Sephiroth was looking at him as if he wasn't entirely sure the boy had spoken. Roxas stared back uncertainly, not wanting to ask a second time. At last, a small sneer appeared slowly upon the man's face.

"Can't your mommy take you?" Silence from Roxas. Green eyes narrowed. "You can use a bucket. Wait here." Roxas blinked, eyebrows rising slowly as the silver-haired madman stood, sliding the sword back into its long sheath. Buckling it around slender hips, his boots clomped, loud in the natural hush that surrounded the cabin due to the trees. Often, Roxas could hear them blowing in the wind, rustling and shushing. It would then hiss through the cracks in the wood, chilling the room, making him draw the sheets tighter.

Sephiroth reached the door, pulled it open effortlessly, sending the lifting blond brows shooting high. Roxas' eyes went wide, incredulously round. He sucked in a breath without meaning to, too astonished by the utterly negligible lack of lock to censor his reaction. Sephiroth noticed, paused. As the cool dusk air came sweeping in, gently ruffling the long stands of silver, he drew the sword back out of its cover, pointed threateningly in the blond's direction, snapping Roxas' attention abruptly back. "Don't. Move," he said darkly. "Don't even twitch, war-orphan. I'll know if you have."

They gazed at each other for a long moment, one set of eyes narrowed, the other wide. Sephiroth shifted slightly, lifted the great sword, stabbed it back into the sheath. The man's feet disappeared from the wooden planks, becoming a crunching of dirt and leaves before the door was slammed firmly shut. However, no amount of slamming would keep it shut indefinitely – _nothing _would. Had he not had time to install a lock before following Roxas to the airship terminal, or did he just – not expect him to try? Was it because of this – Cloud… thing? Would Cloud not have run?

Roxas shivered suddenly, a thrill racing through his veins, sickening, electrifying, heart slamming into overdrive. He went briefly dizzy at the prospect – _there was nothing keeping him here. _He – he wasn't _trapped. _He already knew the man was a reasonably sound sleeper – he'd managed to leave their bed last night, hadn't he? Managed to clean himself a little, without any of the stifled gasps stirring him? If he could achieve all that – how hard would it be to tiptoe out the door?

He sank down, clutching the lone blanket around his throat, chin lowering as his mind raced. The walls were thin – he could hear Sephiroth moving around outside, the steps growing further away, then pausing. Roxas strained his ears, eyes slipping shut, some part of him still finding a way to wish that a wild animal would come and fill its belly with the insane man's intestines, and not have room leftover for caged, injured blond. No growling, though, no screaming. Just footsteps resuming, coming closer again. Another shudder worked through, different this time, heart dropping just as suddenly as it had burst to life. The last time they had communicated, Sephiroth had ended up kissing him, groping him, basically getting ready to fuck him with a smile and call him 'Cloud'. It burned his stomach. Oh, hell, he wanted Axel. He wanted Axel bursting in, heroic, to grab him up and just get him out of here, away from the horror of it all. But again, he knew it wasn't going to happen – it was Axel who needed saving. And here was Roxas, all alone with an all but open door…

The door did open, at that point, and Sephiroth re-entered the cabin, tracking mud and leaves that clung to his boots. After only a few minutes out there, he was looking windswept. The breeze coming through the doorway was icy and strong, smelling of moisture. Roxas' eyes were drawn to the bright red bucket hanging from the man's right hand, deceptively cheery-looking. If only it knew its purpose.

Sephiroth stomped over to where the teen sat, ignored the instinctive cower, Roxas' ribs remembering him well. He thrust the bucket down. "Here. Do whatever." He looked distracted, glancing over his shoulder as Roxas reluctantly accepted the offering.

The blond took a breath, forced the words, "Can't I just – do it outside?" His heart was back to thundering. Sephiroth's gaze came back around, sharpening.

"No. You can't. Use the bucket." He went over to the black rucksack, pulled out his gloves, tugged them on rapidly, efficiently. "There's a storm coming. I'm going to go fill the generator and get it going while you're doing that." Again, his eyes found the teen, glinting hard. "When you're done, leave it beside the door. I'll take care of the waste. _Don't_ touch the door, don't try anything stupid. I'm faster and fitter than you. You _won't _get far."

Roxas glared coldly. "You think I'm in any condition to try? What, you think _Cloud_ would be that eager to leave?"

The man stopped abruptly, and Roxas panicked, calling internally for his mother without a second thought. Sephiroth's stare was piercing, pinioning. A tense moment passed, in which the madness seemed to flicker, deciding on an outcome. "Cloud already did," he said, a distant shake to each word. "He left, and we…" His brow creased slowly. "Shut up. Stupid war-orphan. You – Cloud – shut up." He was gone, door yet again slammed, leaving Roxas blinking.

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Rain was already beginning to fall on the castle as Vincent trudged up the long last leg of hill. Straggly hair bound behind his head, cloak more ragged than ever, dirt and mud caking his feet. Dots of cold water touched his face, trickled down the back of his neck, ran unfelt down his metal prosthetic arm. His expression was fixed in place, amber eyes focusing on the path ahead, counting the steps to home. His feet clanged dully against the ramp leading from the rapidly dampening dust around and up to the castle entrance, a trail of wet footprints left in his wake, becoming thinner and lighter with each pace. The world was darkening, with cloud and twilight, lights coming on one by one within the castle, individually lit. As Vincent entered the dim interior, the automatic system blazed to life, snapping the halogens awake en masse. The thin man paused, grunted slightly. That was – different. Usually, the lights would have been on at least ten minutes previously, _before _it became necessary for sight. He thought the computer was meant to be in charge of things like that.

Eyes slowly sweeping the ceiling, as if it could open and give answers, he continued on, shoes clacking flatly. His first stop was his sometime room, whenever he was within the castle. He pulled off his one glove as he walked, scrunched it up in his metal hand and wiped the skin of the other against his cloak, the early rain having leaked into the leather confines uncomfortably. He reached up, sinking his fingers into the thick maroon cloth binding his forehead to keep the hair from his eyes, slipped it away, swept the resulting brunet strands back, shaking his head slightly. He reached his door, opened it up, stepped in to find Yuffie already there, an anxious expression on her face as she sat cross-legged on the bed. She looked up as he entered, blinked in surprise. "Vince?"

He frowned slightly, shifting to the wardrobe. "Yuffie, what are you doing here? Shouldn't you be out on duties?"

"Oh, Vince…" Her voice was heavy, making him pause. He twisted, arm within one drawer, eyebrows drawn.

"What is it? What's happened?" A slight beat, then, "Is it Roxas?"

The girl gave a short, harsh laugh. "When _isn't _it Roxas? Oh, but it's so much more," she sighed. He straightened.

"Tell me about it."

"Vince…" Her brown eyes were miserable. "Axel, Cloud and Sora are in hospital. Axel's hurt bad. And Roxas…"

Amber eyes narrowed. "What about him? Where is he? …Yuffie?"

The ninja's mouth trembled, lower lip curling with the effort of not bursting into tears. Voice shaking, she said, "He's not here, Vincent. He's gone." She swallowed hard, eyes on the bedspread, picking at it with her nails. "There was a raid by pirates. Vaan was in on it, and they got the core. But then, I don't – " She lifted her head, confused. "I don't really know what happened, or, or why, or how, but… Axel, he – Roxas… broke his leg. And he left, Vince. He left the castle."

Vincent's eyes were wide, shock written over every feature. "You can't be serious." His rough voice was heightened in stunned disbelief. "Roxas _hurt _Axel?"

"He hurt him bad," the girl murmured. Then she scrubbed at her head in frustration. "But that's not all there is _to _it. Vaan got shot. He… he died during the night, but he talked to Leon before he did, since Leon was already _there _and all, at the hospital I mean… And – he said something about it being the computer?" She shook her head with a low, exasperated growl. "I don't even know what I'm talking about. Leon called a meeting to tell us all about it, and I know it _clears _Roxas, but I still don't know _what _the fuck is going on."

"So then, where is Roxas _now?" _the dark-haired man asked intently. "Is anyone searching for him?"

She sighed again. "See, Vince, that's the thing. I'm – I'm guessing you didn't find the Sephiroth guy, right?"

Vincent went still, staring at the girl for a long, silent moment. "Where's Leon? I need to speak to him. Immediately."

Yuffie shrugged. "He's in the library, moping. Cloud doesn't come home til tomorrow morning, so… Uh, Vincent?" The man was already sweeping from the room. She huffed, called, "It was nice seeing _you _again, _too." _He returned almost as soon as he'd vanished out the door, startling her, strode over to the bed and planted a kiss quickly on her brow.

"I'm happy to see you," he said quietly, seriously. "But I have some information for Leon. There's every chance I know where Roxas is."

She gaped. "Seriously?"

"Seriously. I have to go. If I don't see you again before we leave – " He kissed her again, on the mouth, short but feeling, leaving her slightly breathless. "I'll see you again."

"Yeah… sure…" He left again, walking swiftly. _"Good luck," _she cried in his wake, heart pounding with sudden hope. Her fingers curled into fists, which she jammed into the sides of her face, gazing into space. She sucked in a sharp breath. "Hold on, Axel's Roxie. Help's on the way." She raised her eyes, closed them, voice a whisper. "Oh, please be okay. Don't for God's sake do anything _dumb."_

_-------_

Roxas was waiting for Sephiroth to fall asleep, but tonight the man was restless. The generator was going, rumbling noisily nearby, though the single light-bulb guttered with each growing gust of wind. Each time it happened, the silver-haired man would look up, staring until the bulb resumed behaving itself. Then he would return to whatever he was doing at the time – polishing the sword, digging through his rucksack, occasionally just staring into space. His encounter with mother had obviously shaken his grip on the Roxas-as-Cloud fantasy he had been attempting to build, and it seemed the best way for him to cope was to stay on the other side of the room, not speaking to the blond – though Roxas sometimes caught him muttering to himself.

Roxas watched him, almost entirely certain by now that Zack had been correct – the real Sephiroth was almost assuredly dead. When he wasn't busy claiming to _be _the man, when Roxas quietly observed his actions, performed as if no one was looking, it seemed near to impossible. His features were too youthful when he was frowning in concentration. Perhaps in and of itself this wouldn't have ordinarily convinced him, but if Sephiroth and Cloud really had been together, he couldn't imagine with Cloud with someone so much younger. It could only be by a couple years, when he thought about it, but – Cloud was better suited to people of or above his own age. Like – Leon. He could easily picture Cloud and Leon together – had _seen _it – but separate them, place them with the approximate age-equivalent of this man – Axel, Demyx, Zexion, to name some examples – and Roxas' brain almost started to ache at the jarring quality of it all. He could no more imagine Cloud with this version of Sephiroth, no matter the knowledge of their intimate goings-on he seemed to possess, than any of those. Still, _whoever _this person was, he was just as dangerous as he'd been the first time he'd introduced himself to Axel in the castle halls. His relative youth changed nothing about their situation, except to maybe highlight just how delusional he truly was – not a comfort.

The wind blew, a powerful breath rattling the door, seizing the sheet-plastic nailed over the window, flapping whatever small amount of give it could. The little cabin was insecure against the elements – its temperature dropped steadily, both males beginning to shiver despite their coverings, the scent of ozone permeating and overwhelming as, outside, the first of the rain began to fall.

It wasn't long before drips began to appear in the wooden roofing, thin, shining strings of fluid threading through almost invisible cracks, pattering down. A slight stain spread around the plastic-covered square in the wall, in-between the thick staples. Every time a fresh leak began, the one calling himself Sephiroth would glare at it. Roxas could almost picture him whipping out that overcompensation of a sword and threatening the darkening patches of floor, commanding the rain to join its outside brethren, or else. _He_ was more concerned about the light – exactly how sound was its wiring insulation? What would happen when one of the drips formed too close to it? Would it just short out, or explode, or what?

About an hour passed of this silence, broken only by Sephiroth's restive movements, Roxas huddled in what was becoming a common position, the bed-sheets hauled up around his torn clothing, body, trying to work some heat into his muscles without having to hunch too far and upset his ribs. The bruising along his side, no doubt in neat little fingerprint-sized marks, pounded with every heartbeat, along with his head. His mouth and throat were dry, but he refused to ask for anything from this man. He would wait, if necessary, and lick up the rain when he knew he wasn't looking.

But then, he wasn't planning on remaining here much longer, anyway.

The constant nearby growl of the generator started to flicker, bringing up both sets of eyes within the cabin. They met for a moment, before rising to the light, which dimmed abruptly, giving a low buzz, before jumping to overbright. The outside noises levelled out for maybe a minute, before the machine started labouring in earnest, the bulb again struggling to perform its duty. Sephiroth let out a sharp, impatient breath, green eyes narrowed. He set aside the sword, strapping it into its casing, and climbed to his feet. "Wait here," he muttered. "I'll go switch it off. It's out of gas."

"O-okay." Roxas felt a burst of dizziness at watching the door once again so easily opened. It was harder to breathe all of a sudden, harder to swallow. The heat, which had died down beneath his skin, flared back to life as his pulse increased. Sephiroth disappeared from the cabin, sealing Roxas in as he was briefly swallowed by the cold rainfall. _Now? _He eyed the door, measuring his physical capabilities, the amount of time it would take to get there before he returned, the pain and effort it would cost to go as fast as would be required… The man had even, for some reason, left his sword behind, either trusting Roxas, or confident of his inability to lift it, the latter of which the blond was inclined to agree with. _No. Not now. _Mother was silent in the back of his head, taking no part in the proceedings. Roxas wasn't even sure she was watching. Did she sleep?

The generator was coughing, the light sputtering weaker and weaker in sync with the awful grinding noises. Then, very, very suddenly, everything went silent, everything went black. Roxas blinked sharply, eyes straining, breaths quickening, before he realised that he could still hear the rain – it was louder now, it was hammering against the plastic. Crunching steps approached, and Sephiroth entered, bringing with him an icy gust, flecks of water. It was all locked out again as he closed the door, but having been invited in, the chill was loathe to leave. It didn't matter how tightly Roxas tugged the blankets, a finger of ice stroked up and down his limbs, working deeper, aiming for the bone.

The silver-haired man collected his things from the corner, leather creaking from the water trailing down in rivers, his wet hair providing a continual source of trickling. He set the sword and bag up more neatly, crouching down, taking a moment to arrange them. When at last satisfied with their aesthetic side-by-side appearance, he straightened, hands on hips, and stared for a moment. Roxas watched. Not turning, the man said, "Take off the sheets. We're sharing the bed tonight."

The blond hesitated. "I'm cold, though. If I take them off, I might get a chill."

A slight huff of a laugh, bitter. "Is that what your mom says? Would she prefer that _I _get a chill, and you stay perfectly fine? After all…" He turned, face obscured by shadow, just a shape in the darkness. "She is _your _mother, not mine. It's not like she'd give a damn about _me, _right?"

Mother stirred. Roxas hesitated. "I – I don't know," he lied, despite the whispers in his mind. Sephiroth was still for a long moment.

"Take off the blankets, Cloud." His voice deepened abruptly. Roxas hadn't even noticed when it had relaxed, become more natural, but he did now that the smooth bass quality had returned. It sent a frisson through his nerves. Things were getting worse again. Roxas was scared of being attacked a second time, terrified and disgusted at the thought of those lips anywhere near his flesh. But he had to trust that mother would step in again. She had stopped it once, he was sure she wouldn't let it happen no matter what. So, as alien as it felt to be pantomiming some kind of strip-show in front of this man, he shed the green and white sheets, spread them messily. Sephiroth sighed. "Not like that." He came over, said shortly, "Get out of the way." Roxas awkwardly fumbled to one side, gasping a little at the pain. The silver-haired man took the sheets, kicked the pillows, snapped the lengths of material straight, one by one, and lay them down in a perfect square. He did it all with quick precision, obviously not even having to think twice about each motion. So what, did the guy make beds for a living? Was he a maid in his pre-Sephiroth lifetime? Watching the discipline in his movements, Roxas ended up concluding that it was some kind of – military thing. There was no mattress, no sleeping bag, but – he could almost see an echo of Zack's bearing in the way he did it all. So, this guy was Zanarkand, too, then. Boy, didn't they grow the fun ones.

The bed was made in under a minute, pillows perfectly fluffed, everything pristine, looking fresh and clean even with the wrinkles that couldn't quite be smoothed away. "Well?" the man prompted testily, gesturing. "You said you were cold, didn't you?" Roxas crawled back, wincing and hissing through his teeth. Despair struck, as he lowered himself the few inches to the covers. If it was this difficult just moving a couple feet on his hands and knees, how the hell did he expect to be able to run from this place, this man, and hope to find civilisation before he keeled over and died? He found himself at a bad angle for slipping under the blanket, cursed himself anew. Obviously sharing in his exasperation, Sephiroth let out an intolerant breath, bent and ripped the sheets quickly out from under him, tugged them back up a bare moment later, pushing them around his shoulders. Roxas, stiff, eyes wide, just lay there like a wooden doll, too afraid to move, scared to even acknowledge that the man had helped him for once. He could almost feel the smug satisfaction in his skull, the faint murmur of _good boy _behind his own petrified thoughts and feelings.

The silver-haired man didn't try drawing attention to the fact that he'd all but tucked Roxas into bed, lay beside him, boots still on, hair still damp, locks of it falling across onto the blond's pillow, touching his face, making him flinch. It took several moments for Sephiroth to get settled, shifting around on his back until he reached a position comfortable enough to relax into. His arms lay on top of the blanket, fingers intertwined at his stomach, one elbow barely touching Roxas' arm. The teen fought the urge to squirm out of reach, stared at the ceiling, struggling to regulate each breath to sound calm. At last, the man said, "Good-night, Cloud." He turned his face when Roxas didn't respond, eyes only just visible at this proximity. The sound of rain increased around the cabin, hissing, hammering. "Please," he added softly, "don't leave me tonight." Roxas nearly jumped out of his skin, lips parting a bare second before he could screech some kind of defence. He caught the breath that wanted to burst the words free, locked it within his lungs, eyes like coins. A hand reached up, leather brushing fabric, a knuckle stroking slowly against the blond's cheek. "I want to see you when I wake up."

Roxas closed his eyes, teeth gritting together, relief melting through his entire being. _Please, don't leave me tonight. _He was referring to – to Cloud, sleeping elsewhere again. Because his mind was obviously just that far gone.

The blond didn't know whether to reassure him, or keep his mouth shut. He opted for – a nod. A firm, shaky nod, quickly lifting his gaze back to the roof, closing his eyes. Sephiroth's hand lingered against his skin, before gently pulling away, returning to his stomach. "I love you," he whispered. Roxas' eyes squeezed tighter. This was different to Axel, he knew it. He _knew _this wasn't the same thing. Axel had watched him his whole life, and fallen in love with him. This man thought he was someone else, someone that had obviously left him. When he said _I love you, _and Roxas didn't say it back – damn it, that was _different _to when Axel had done it. Two… com_pletely _different mindsets.

Unnerving, all the same.

The minutes ticked by, long, tortuous, tormenting. Roxas tried to find ways to pass the time while looking asleep, but nothing entered his head. Sheep counting trailed off at five, ninety-nine bottles ceased to echo at ninety-eight, reciting mathematic rules did nothing but bewilder and block his brain, making him, if possible, even more aware of the presence at his side.

And then, Roxas heard a snore. So faint, barely there, and that was how he knew it was real. This wasn't a trick being played, a test – the man was sleeping. He waited, heart-rate increasing, fingertips tingling, solar-plexus a churning of sensation, excitement, dread, horror, anticipation, and most of all, determination. He swallowed. Axel _needed _him. The redhead might like to think it was the other way around, but Roxas knew the truth. Like Aerith had once said: now that Roxas was here, Axel had everything he wanted. Roxas needed more out of life, though. This didn't mean he cared any less about the redhead, not by a long shot – but without Axel, he _could _survive. A world without him would be bleak and cold, but Roxas wouldn't die. Axel, on the other hand, would.

This is why, long before he was physically able to, Roxas sat up, slipped gradually away from the bed without disturbing the sheets too badly, and stood. This is why, long before he was physically able to, Roxas left the cabin in the middle of the woods, left Sephiroth to wake up alone.

Axel is why.


	44. Chapter 44

**A/N: **Two chapters to go. Wow. Okay, well, I give you this one with much love as always, and just hope you all like it. I've spent all three days working on it, it needed the extra TLC. I've gone and whored myself out to MySpace this time, so if you're on, come say hi via my profile :)

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CHAPTER FORTY-FOUR

The world was awash with water. It entered Roxas' eyes, slipped into his open mouth, deafened him to all but the constant pattering, the insistent rush of the wind. He gasped a breath at the icy, black quality of it all. Bandaged hands rose to push the already soggy locks of hair from his face, slicking it back against his skull.

He'd made it. He was out. He turned, just able to make out the shape of the cabin in the thrashing darkness. For a long moment, he stared, not quite able to believe his luck at getting out without Sephiroth immediately waking and coming after him. His chest hitched, he silently bid the fucker adieu, and turned to plunge into the night…

…Which was when mother rose up, like the roar of the ocean filling every pore, and demanded the core.

Roxas froze, blinking rapidly in growing horror as he realised that, yes – he'd left it behind. So intent on returning to Axel, he'd forgotten how he ended up this way in the first place. He moaned aloud, "Mom, _no." _But he knew he had no choice, none at all – if he refused, she would act in his stead and possibly destroy whatever chance he had of getting in and out again.

Now that he _was _out, though, now that he was free, terror spiked at the thought of returning to that trap, anywhere near the madness. He was locked in place, wanting so badly to just start running, run maybe fast enough to leave even mother behind, a smoky voice hanging on the air. A shame, then, that he couldn't run at _all. _He knew the only way he was going to achieve this was to pace himself, to find a way to gain distance without vomiting and passing out from exhaustion. He needed time on his side. If mother messed that up, made this into a hunt instead of an escape…

Swallowing, turning, he faced the cabin, reluctant dread sweeping through, wave after wave, increasing with each dull step. He felt like – a soldier. A soldier in a war, marching steadily towards capture, death. Axel was blinding in his thoughts, insistent, reminding him of the consequences of failure. He touched metal, lowered his chin to his chest, whispered, "Oh, fuck," and eased the handle back around, clutched the door hard to keep it from being swept out of his grasp. A burst of cold entered with him, howling briefly around the room, settling as he forced it quietly shut. The sudden respite from the weather was stifling – he couldn't get enough air in here. Wide, petrified eyes settled on the man's still-slumbering form. That he hadn't woken the first time was damn near to a miracle – that he didn't even now suggested a _coma. _But Roxas knew he just wasn't that lucky.

He drew a choked breath into his lungs, puffed them deliberately, trying to still the spinning in his head. His throat was dry, he nearly coughed, but panicked and clamped down on the reflex. His body was a buzzing jumble of nerves, painful in intensity, adding to what was an already burning existence. Mother directed his eyes to the bag in the shadowy corner of the room, sitting beside the long sword. Roxas hesitated, obeyed, quick, light, limping footsteps tracking water, panting quietly. Not wanting to think about what would happen if he were caught walking about like this, _wet _like this, he pressed a wrist against the wall, used it to help slide down onto one knee, keeping his right leg as straight as possible, stuck out at an awkward angle. Jenova spread her threads through him, drawing him far enough back from the pain to act without hesitation. And maybe he was going to regret that later, but now, he used it to his full advantage, leaning more heavily on his knee, using his stomach-muscles without fear, the two of them working together for once to achieve a common goal. Mother didn't care, one way or another, about escaping – she had formed sympathies for the silver-haired pretender, he could feel them connect to his thoughts of the man – but the fact remained that the core needed returning to the castle. She was willing to aid Roxas in his endeavour, although she persisted in believing somehow that Sephiroth would come through in the end, would realise what the duties of a 'good boy' were and let them overwhelm whatever sick desires already existed. It was fortunate, then, that one of them was in touch with reality.

Roxas quietly, anxiously, unzipped the bag, rifled through, touched something hard and metal, something soft and malleable, something small – small and smooth to touch. Senses heightening, shaking uncontrollably, Roxas' fingers tightened around the box, pulled it free, fumbled for a moment and pulled it open. A wave of soothing relief, from both of them, satisfaction and approval washing through his muscles, and abruptly mother was gone again, leaving him gasping and straining, struggling not to cry out at the position he found himself in. Cursing her heatedly, fluently, his nails sank deeply into the wood, the muscles of his left leg hardening, bunching, struggling weakly to support and lift his entire body. Pain sparked through everything, sweat popping out despite the cold, teeth slammed together at the front, face contorting with the effort of not making a sound. Still, he couldn't keep the low hiss of air from seeping out from peeled-back lips, the almost-weeping panting as he finally straightened. If he didn't know any better, he'd have called this sabotage on her behalf. Why even bother sending him back in, if she didn't intend to let him leave again? Or was that the whole point?

He glanced frantically over at the slumbering man, as Sephiroth grunted slightly, sighed. The sounds of the outside elements increased, becoming more storm-like, as had been predicated. There was a roll of distant thunder. Roxas hadn't seen the flash, could only hope it would remain far enough away to not disturb the sleeper. Sucking his lips in between his teeth to stifle any further noise, nostrils flaring in an attempt to obtain deep enough breaths through his nose to cater to his fear, he tightened his fist around the core's case, started back across the cabin. His first steps were too confident, he buckled slightly, nearly thumped to the floor right beside Sephiroth, who was beginning to stir a little, the beginning stages of rousing. Roxas briefly closed his eyes, steadied his step, favouring his healthy leg, the toe of the other barely being used to help propel, more a balance than anything else, and _oh, God, how the hell was he going to pull this off? _

He hesitated just before the door, wavered, because already he was hurting, already his limbs were heavy, his lungs aching with the effort of all the hard breathing going on. His stomach twisted, heat prickling under his skin, inside his thigh, his palms, the ever-present soreness flared beyond reason. He dipped his head, eyes squeezing shut, both hands forming fists, one nursing the lump of the jewellery box.

_Axel…_

So much less certain now, so much less determined, though it seemed like only minutes ago he'd been so sure this was the answer, this was salvation, for _both _of them. Hell, it _had _been only minutes ago! Despair, uncertainty, agony and anguish, a bewilderment of conflict, and above it all a hovering fear that nothing was going to work out. Better to quit? Better to go and curl beside the tormentor, and leave this for another day?

_Better to let it all go, _she whispered. _Better to trust, and be cared for._

Trust _who, _precisely? Roxas' brows dropped savagely. Mother might be in his head, she might interfere, she might influence his actions, but she wasn't going to stop him from doing this. Roxas didn't need caring for by _that. _He needed Axel, and Axel needed him, _and that was all there was to it._

He grasped the handle, twisted, a second time pulled it painstakingly open, trying to do it slowly enough so that the change in air pressure didn't alert the silver-haired man on the ground. The air came cutting through nonetheless, rustled his spikes, his torn shirt and jeans, made him wince at the knife-coldness of it.

Sephiroth grunted, muttered, "Cloud?"

Roxas didn't bother to freeze and wait for the danger to pass – panic reared up with gnashing fangs, sank into his heart, sent him gasping and practically falling out the door. He pulled it shut – too hard. It thumped.

He ran.

Feet pushing through the rotting leaves, snapping over twigs, shoes catching on rocks, mud squelching. A strange, lop-sided gait, left leg slamming, right toe dancing, arms lifting slightly with every lope, bent at the elbows. He vanished into the tree-line surrounding the cabin, fought his way down a slippery slope, reached the bottom just as, behind a rumble of thunder, he heard a bang, a roar, fury reaching him even at the distance.

He'd never win in a direct sprint, that went without saying – to try would destroy him. So instead of continuing, gasping until collapse, he found a tight copse of intertwined trees, fingers digging into soggy, rough bark, dragging himself to the filthy forest floor, hugging the wood, holding on and pretending pain didn't exist.

"_Clooouuuud!" _A howl on the wind.

_Axel, _his mind whispered, a prayer. How long was he supposed to stay here? How was this going to help him get away? He was a rabbit, frozen in its tracks under the eyes of a hawk, imagining this was any form of defence. Would the predator spy some other flicker of motion and follow it instead? Or was he just making things easier on them both?

Time passed, impossible to track. What he wouldn't have given for some kind of foresight. What he wouldn't have given for a whole, healthy body to _attempt_ this with.

At last, sitting and waiting was achieving nothing for him. If Sephiroth hadn't come crashing through the underbrush by now, chances were he'd chosen a different direction to Roxas. When the blond tried to rise, however, he found himself uselessly stuck – his numb limbs refused to co-operate, stranding him in the mud, barely fifteen feet from the trap of wood, which he knew, from this night on, would never be escapable again. A raging hiss, rain slamming to earth all around, thunder flashing beyond the distant hills, strobing the horizon. Roxas cast about for some sort of leverage, the trees too broad to be able to wrap his arms around without scrabbling and slipping several times. There was no _room _for trial and error, no room for error at _all, _because to fail in any way, shape or form would no doubt leave him floundering in an even weaker physical state than he'd started with.

He found an old, rotten branch sunken in the mud, light, hollowed out by insects and decomposition, gnarled and misshapen. It hooked around, twisted, but was long enough and easy enough to wield to be used as an aid. Its end stabbed deep into the ground, Roxas' arms straining and fighting, left leg shivering, heels perched on a precipice between finding solid standing and sliding away in a heartbeat. It hurt like fuck, it left him breathless, but his success in standing sent a fire through his veins, telling him, either truthfully or deceptively, that he could _do this. _There was no other choice, now, anyway. No giving up, because to do so would be to fall prey _deliberately _to Sephiroth. He would never do such a thing.

Roxas started hobbling, the branch acting like a replacement leg, allowing his right foot to more or less trail in his wake, the scabs stretching but not tearing. He leaned heavily upon the aid, travelling blindly, putting as much distance between himself and the cabin as possible. He realised that pacing just wasn't possible anymore – this leg of the journey, at least, would need to be done in the longest spurt he could manage. It didn't matter if it left him too frail to even lift himself anymore – as long as he was out of that man's power, he would find a way to be okay. All he knew was that, within it, he didn't have a hope in hell of ever seeing Axel again. He still remembered those words, though Axel hadn't known he'd been conscious enough to comprehend them: _"I'll slit his _throat_ before I see him with you again!"_

And mother thought he was in safe hands?

He found himself weeping as he struggled along in the building storm, hot tears lost among cold drops. He didn't even know where they sprang from, what their exact inspiration was, but they just – they kept coming. As the storm ebbed, then roared back to power, he simply lost himself inside it, dragging each breath into increasingly raw lungs, a choking stab occurring with each inhalation. His leg dragged along behind him, not even pretending to help anymore. He could feel it coming, the wave that would knock him down, the pricks of light indicating that unconsciousness wasn't far off now. Eyes rolling back slightly, fingers slipping then gripping tighter than ever, knuckles white, bandages soaked and falling apart, revealing small sections of sliced palm. Water saturated every inch of him, flooded every concave, dragged at his clothing, the mud sucking at his sneakers. _Axel, _his mind desperately reminded, as he struggled along.

Again, the weather dimmed, left him in a world of darkness and dripping, the sound constant, all-encompassing. As numbness stole through his extremities, he found himself able to use his right foot more often. It didn't really – hurt anymore. It all joined together and seeped away into the background. This wasn't mother making it okay, it was his body… giving up? Almost? It was getting ready for when it wouldn't need to feel for a while. The blood had drained in towards the vital organs, leaving Roxas anaesthetised, shivering. He licked his lips, swallowed, swayed. His steps slowed abruptly, from the crawl they had become to a bare shuffle. The pricks became explosions, swallowing chunks of the world into glittering silver and white, everything weak, useless, sweat appearing in amongst the trails of water pouring down his skin. Mother stirred, checked to make sure the core was still being clutched, subsided once more. Roxas hung his head. The voice repeating Axel's name faded far into the background, as the world began to fuzz out and away.

And that's when he heard the crunch. Distinctive, loud, heavy. Roxas caught himself, eyes fluttering back open from their swooning state, brows drawing together as he struggled to discern a cause for the sudden noise. It was a forest, right? Animals. Animals lived in forests. He took an unsteady step, made a snapping noise of his own, froze. There was silence, deep, pure, blooming and pregnant.

A hoarse, rasping whisper through the darkness, as if the voice had been screamed raw: "Cloud?"

Roxas was moving, jamming the branch into the ground and stumbling, heedless of how much sound was being made. _"Cloud!"_

"_Fuck," _he gasped, staggering into a desperate, shambling run. _"Mom!"_

"_CLOUD?"_

Branches whipped, leaves slapped, droplets fell into his eyes and blinded him for a blink. Breaths bursting and bulleting in the mid-storm hush, the ice of the air becoming a fire to wade through, skin burning all of a sudden, steps slipping. Roxas slid, yelped, caught himself and plunged onwards, hobbling at full-speed, almost achieving a run, pumped full of chemicals urging him onward. No more tears, no more hopelessness, no room for thought. Survival took the helm, shoved aside everything extraneous to the cause, sank into him in much the same way that mother did, spurring him when sense would have had him drop, his body would have cut its own strings and waited for whatever end was due to come. Teeth clamped together, breaths sucked between, eyes wide and wild, pupils eating up his irises, body feeling leaden as his senses sped up several paces and flew ahead, spun outward. This wasn't just any old hunt, this wasn't just Roxas in trouble – every part of his being was a hundred percent sure that, if captured, he _would die. _Axel didn't exist in this moment – it was all about Roxas. Roxas wanted to keep hurting.

He sprinted. The branch was still being used, his leg still being supported, but it wasn't _allowed _to be feeble, _it had to run, _it was just a bunch of fucking _cuts. _The wood hit the ground every two seconds, tearing the mud, sending hard jolts into the blond's shoulders. He didn't hear footsteps behind him, but hell, he wasn't listening for them. Unless Sephiroth started panting down his neck, Roxas barely even cared where he was. Splinters sailed into his fingers, stabbing and burrowing, palms only half-protected, the exposed lacerations being ripped anew. An ankle twisted, a knee buckled, Roxas continued. Whatever littered the ground didn't matter, wouldn't trip him, he just launched himself across it all. He found his body's limit and broke it, killed it a little. Breathe in, breathe out, breathe in and watch a figure drop from the trees. He rammed to a halt, screamed hysterically as Sephiroth lunged for him, hands hooked into claws, snarling like a beast, like he'd wrap his jaws around the blond's neck and silence him forever. Roxas swung the branch, shattered it over the silver-haired man's skull and face, encouraged blood to erupt from his nose, a splinter in the corner of one eye, dust and crumbs lost in volumes of long wet hair. Sephiroth spun briefly, an instinctive yell escaping bloodied lips. He caught himself, shifting from animalistic to psychotic, a low, enraged scream renting the air.

Roxas couldn't run this time. He tried, windmilled, fell back into the mud. Moments later, as he scrambled weakly to rise, slender fingers wound through his hair, tightened, and wrenched. Crying out, Roxas was yanked up from the ground, leaves and dirt clinging. His hair was wet, making him slip briefly in the man's grasp. Sephiroth merely renewed his grip with a jolt, and started walking. Roxas was dragged in his wake, wails high, virtually voiceless, feet scrabbling for a hold as he gripped the man's arm, tried to lessen the tearing at his scalp. He fought, tugged, struggled, collapsed and was hauled along by the thick clump of follicles. Necessity returned him to his feet, and in this fashion, they trailed back to the cabin.

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"_You left me!" _Roxas was thrown across the length of the room, the door slamming, the walls shaking with the force. He cried out in agony, screamed, Sephiroth advancing in the dark, a hulking shadow of hate. The man knelt, grabbed the blond's shirt, wrenched him up a foot to slap him, once, twice, three times, countless times, the claps of skin growing shorter and more ferocious, a wild abandon crackling the air. The smacking became claws, nails scratching, digging frantically, became hair gripped again, head shaken too hard, shoved back against the wall with a sharp sound. No words, just panting breaths, silence from the teenager as the attack briefly ceased. Sephiroth stood, snatched up his bag, tore through it, threw it aside a moment later, silver flashing in the black, coldness jammed against Roxas' temple. "I'll shoot you," the man said shakily, tears trailing down his face, through his voice, grip choking-hard and trembling. "I'll shoot you with my brother's gun, and then you'll be _gone." _He dug the barrel further down, Roxas quivering, sobbing without moisture, without breath. _"Isn't that what you want?" _he shrieked through the blood, fingers wrapping around the boy's neck and squeezing. "You want to leave me! You'd leave me, you'd leave Sephiroth, you'd leave us _all!"_ He paused, eyes flicking blindly in the dark, dug his fingertips in hard, shook Roxas. His voice lowered, softened. "That's what you want, right, Cloud? You want to go, don't you? All you do is _leave, _you leave and Sephiroth wakes up _alone…" _He lifted his empty hand, punched hard on the blond's chest, a howl bursting out. _"You shouldn't have run! You shouldn't have left!" _He was frantic, panicking, gasping, driving the gun deeper still, Roxas whimpering faintly. "You shouldn't have left us," he wheezed. "But you're still trying to go – still trying to leave me – so do you – do you really want to leave?" He cocked the hammer on the gun, thumb brushing the smooth metal quickly. "Huh? Cloud? You want me to send you away?"

"_I'm not… Cloud," _the blond whispered brokenly. "I'm _Roxas."_

Sephiroth was savage, teeth clenching, both hands around the gun now, holding it firm, steady. "But you _look like him. _You look _enough like him _for me to _pretend." _Finger on the trigger, wavering, about to pull and ready to regret, already hearing the screams of anguish echoing off the walls, when Roxas stiffened.

"Don't hurt mother," he said quietly, steadily. "You might want to hurt Roxas, for resembling the dead man's love, but if you do, mother goes with him." His fingers clutched feebly at the small box, ever-held, mother having taken over the hand long before Roxas lost the will or ability to keep it tight. Sephiroth jerked with a gasp, small noise escaping his throat. Roxas' head turned slowly, pulling away from the barrel's edge, only to nestle it more securely against the bridge of his nose. Blue eyes flashed, unseen. "Will you tell me your name yet, child?"

The gun shivered. "Sephiroth," he insisted, cracking halfway through.

"Sephiroth," Jenova said calmly, "let us tell truths. Pretence has hurt you and Roxas badly. You are Sephiroth as I am a mother, we are agreed. Who are you, then, when I tell you that I am a program designed to protect and love the children of Twilight Town? Less, even – I am the remnants that should have ceased to exist weeks ago." There was silence for a moment, before she added, "I call myself their mother. What do you call yourself?"

"I…" Gun shook, steadied. "I call myself… Sephiroth." Uncertainty, eyes wide and wet, but tears slowed almost to stopping. Cloud was no longer in the room – just the woman.

"My name is Jenova," the blond said softly. "I am the core."

A small sound, like a dry, hitching sob. "My name is…" The gun flipped away as he lifted his wrists to wipe his cheeks sharply. "Kadaj," he said harshly. "My name is Kadaj. I am… the brother that didn't die."

A long, quiet beat, as the tension suddenly leaked out of the man. He sagged against the wall, drawing the gun against his chest, hugging it.

"Hello, Kadaj."

A sigh. Heavily, he replied, "Hello, Jenova."

"Roxas is injured again," she said, with concern. Kadaj bristled.

"_Fuck _Roxas," he snarled. "I don't care about him! He's a _shit _puppet – just like _Cloud!" _

"You should be kinder to him. He could be your brother."

"My _brother?" _The man was incredulous, upper lip peeled back. "My brothers are _dead, _okay? All of them! They're _dead."_

"There are other brothers, if you are interested," she answered simply. "Brothers to replace those you lost."

Kadaj stared through the black gloom. "You – you bitch," he said numbly. "You want me to – just forget? Just _forget them?" _Anger sparked, threatened to shift and flood.

She replied, "Yes."

He choked, hissed, curled up further into himself, turned away from her. "You don't know _anything. _You really _are _a machine, aren't you?" His head swivelled to the side, he demanded bitterly, "So why shouldn't I shoot you, after all? Roxas is only going to leave again. You're a _machine." _He hitched a breath, muttered, "I have no reason to keep you."

Jenova pondered. "What will you do if we are gone?"

Kadaj frowned, hunching, cheek pressing to the gun. "Wha – what?"

"If you shoot Roxas and mother," she elaborated, "will you then go after Cloud?"

The man blinked, twisted his chin away. "I – I don't know."

"Once Cloud is dead, what will you do?" she persisted. "The data I have gathered during our interaction suggests that he would survive you no better than Roxas."

Kadaj swallowed, brows twitching lower as he struggled to process her words. "What will I – what? I – I don't know."

"You have no purpose without us," Jenova stated firmly. "Therefore, you must spare Roxas his life."

The man stiffened, shook his head sharply, head coming up. "But – he'll run again! I can't – " His voice cracked desperately. "I can't let him leave me."

Relentlessly, she continued. "What is your ultimate goal regarding Roxas? Where will he be a year from now?"

Green eyes widened. "A _year? _I don't – "

"A month."

He swallowed. There was silence for a long minute, before he rasped, "I have to. I have to shoot you."

"You will die without us," she responded tranquilly, with such certainty. "Did you survive your brothers only to join them after misdirected revenge? You would rather join than replace them?"

Kadaj snapped, gripping fistfuls of silver hair as he shouted, _"I don't know! I can't think with you in my head!" _His eyes squeezed shut, chest heaving. Noticing the weight of the gun against his skull, he stilled. "I'll shoot _me, _then," he stated shakily. "I'll get rid of the problem. I'll…" He sat straight, stared at the barrel, placed it against his head. "I'll do it like Sephiroth did it." Tears returned. "It'll be like history repeating…" He laughed harshly all of a sudden. "I chose well with your Roxas, didn't I? I wanted to – to recreate Cloud and Sephiroth, and… and I did!" His breathing shortened, sharpened, becoming hyperventilating as he gazed at the barely shining trigger a bare several inches from his eyes.

"Will you let mother hold you?"

He jerked, flinched, gaze dragging reluctantly over to where she lay. _"What?" _he breathed, anguish lacing his tongue.

"If you help me up, I can hold you," she offered softly. "We can pretend you have a mother."

He stared at her, grip on the pistol hardening, before trembling almost to the point of letting it slip. He fought to keep hold of it. "I thought pretence was hurting me," he laughed desperately, shrill.

"Pretence works," Jenova corrected, "until it is pierced. I will not try to disillusion you this time." Silence, filled with fast panting. Her voice was gentle. "This is what mother does – she takes the children with nowhere to go, and lets them pretend. We are all pretending. It gives them peace."

Some kind of low, voiceless moan. "…Peace?"

"Help mother up, and let's pretend, Kadaj."

He gazed at her figure helplessly. "But – you're just… How do I know this isn't a trick? You're only trying to save Roxas."

"Mother takes care," she replied neutrally, "of all her children."

The man's shivering reached a fever-pitch, an agonised whisper escaping his lips, head tilting briefly back. The gun was placed aside, and suddenly frail hands gripped the blond's shoulders, easing him up to sit against the wall. Kadaj brought his face close, eyes flicking over the grey features. "You're sick," he realised with a croak. "You're hurt." A faltering hand rubbed red trickles away. "You're… bleeding."

Roxas's lips curved tiredly. "As are you." The man was baffled, reached a hand up to his skin, winced.

"O-ow."

A hand patted Roxas' damp, jeans-clad thigh. "Lay your head here, child. Be a good boy and rest."

Kadaj hesitated, shrank a little, panic flaring in his eyes. Blue eyes regarded him evenly, little expression in place. Thunder rolled distantly, the wind picking up again outside, making the little cabin in the woods creak. Roxas patted his thigh again, encouraging, and warily, the silver-haired man eased back onto his heels, twisted to the side, settled onto one shoulder and cautiously placed his ear to the cold leg. A hand lowered instantly to his tangled hair and began a slow, soothing stroking.

Kadaj lay awake for a long time, never quite relaxing, until finally, exhaustion caught up and carried him reluctantly away. Jenova stayed awake the entire night, forsaking the health of one son for the sanity of another.

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Daylight came, dripping fresh. Roxas was shuddering, skin like ice, lips a pale purple outlined in white. Golden-brown eyelashes fluttered, as Jenova milked his energy reserves, determined to not leave Kadaj alone. It wasn't long before the man woke, habit drawing him out with the sun. Teal eyes were slowly revealed, confusion creasing his brow. "Roxas?"

The boy's chin rose sharply from his chest, eyes rolling briefly before focusing down at the pale face. "It is still mother." She smiled thinly. The man's eyes widened.

"You're shivering." He reached up, pressed a hand to Roxas' cheek. "You're so cold!" he exclaimed in sudden horror. He sat quickly, turned onto his knees, gripped the boy's face, peeling away the hair that stuck to his forehead by way of sweat and old rain. "Holy shit, you're freezing." His breaths shortened, instant alarm. "I – I'll refill the generator and get it going. It'll be okay, it's under a rainproof cover, and I – I'll – " He glanced around wildly, settled on the bedsheets. He leapt to his feet, scrambled to them, snatched them up in a bundle in his arms. "I'll heat this over it, okay? It'll only take a few minutes. Just – stay here." He started for the door, stopped suddenly halfway there. He twisted on the spot, studying the blond with concern mixed with unease. "You – you'll still be here when I get back… won't you?"

A tired smile. "Mother won't leave."

"M – mother…" He remained still for a moment, then sucked in a breath, nodded jerkily, hitched the sheets tighter against his chest. The door opened, shut, and fast, crunching footsteps could be heard.

Roxas dozed a little, Jenova relaxing her hold on him. There was silence in the back of his head, worrying her. The more she let go, the more he started to slump. Blue eyes flicked slowly back and forth. "Roxas? Can you hear mother?"

_Roxas, can you hear mother?_

He didn't respond. There was blankness where she normally was able to touch his thoughts, hear his tears. Fingers started to pick with unnoticed nervousness at the frayed material in the tears of his thigh. "Mother doesn't mean to hurt Roxas… Mother must care for all her children." A note of fretting entered her tone. "Does Roxas understand?"

She sat quietly, stayed well away from his pain, and sighed, waiting for the good boy to return.

The generator rumbled to life, grinding and choking for several seconds before settling into a fast rhythm. Jenova smiled slightly, at how anxiously he ran to protect her. She wished, briefly, that she had had access to the brothers. All lost boys needed a mother.

A sudden bellow tore the disturbed air. Roxas' head whipped up, shock registering as, a moment later, the silver-haired saviour came bursting in, without the warm sheets. He smashed the door shut, rammed his entire body against it, hair flying. "What is it?" Jenova demanded. "What is happening?"

Wild, frantic, terrified, _"They've come to take you away!"_

Roxas gasped slightly. Jenova planted one hand against the ground, leaked back through the blond's muscles and, moving stiffly, grappled up to standing. "Kadaj, come to mother, she will protect – "

The flimsy covering across the window collapsed as a figure came busting through, dark blur, hitting the ground, rolling up to his feet as a sudden pounding began on the door, Kadaj fighting to keep it shut, failing inch by inch. _"Roxas!" _Leon bellowed from outside. Vincent straightened quickly, extended his gun, prepared to pull the trigger and end the madness for once and for all – when Roxas darted in front of him, moving with a swift grace that belied his physical appearance, blue eyes enormous, arms thrusting wide. _"No! _You will not hurt the good boy!"

Vincent froze, a bare millimetre short of blowing the boy away, gasping sharply as he realised how close he had come. He backed off, relaxing his grip on the trigger, while Leon continued to hammer at the door, Kadaj battling with increasing futility. A moment later, a large blade shoved through the gap, wrenched to the side and cracked the door's edge directly into the silver-haired man's forehead, sending him reeling back. Jenova spun at his cry, flew to him as he wheeled and fell, caught his head before it could hit the ground. Blood trickled anew down his face, from a wide gash on his hairline, eyes blurred from the stun.

Leon burst through, arms hard with the weight of the massive sword he carried, whirling on the pair. "Roxas, come away, quickly!" he urged.

"You have hurt him," the boy bawled angrily. "He has done nothing wrong, yet you come here and injure him! You have frightened him badly, you _bad boys!"_

Leon's jaw dropped, bewilderment stamped all over his face, gloved hands sinking, the fur collar of his short jacket depressing as he sagged in astonishment. "Roxas, what – ?"

"Not Roxas," Vincent cut him off softly. His eyes cut down to the resentful figure cradling the leather-clad man. "Jenova."

Leon's head whipped to the side, amazement growing. _"What?"_

"It's just as Vaan said." Vincent drew a breath, lowered his gun, glaring slightly. "You've taken him over. You're the one that hurt Axel."

"Mother did what was necessary," she snapped, holding Kadaj closer, adjusting his head on Roxas' arm. "We knew from the start that Roxas' love would try to stop him. In the end, he would not have done it himself, so we _had _to intervene. We didn't fatally injure the good boy, we merely _stopped _him."

"Holy shit," Leon declared, the tip of his sword thudding to the wooden floor as one hand rose to clap his head. "It really is the computer?"

"We had to recover the core." She glared at them. "The bad people aboard the transportation were going to take Roxas away, and Kadaj _saved us."_

"_Saved you?" _Leon's outrage knew no bounds. Vincent's eyes, however, sharpened abruptly.

"Kadaj?"

"Yes?" the man answered dazedly.

"You will not harm him," Roxas said darkly. "He belongs to mother now. You must destroy her to get to him, and she is within Roxas." His chin lifted, a challenge. "Will you destroy Roxas?"

Both brunets stared, silence falling thickly over the cabin, except for the growl of the generator underlaying it all. Leon glanced sideways at Vincent, who kept his gaze fixedly on the blond. "What do you suggest, Jenova?" the thin man asked quietly. "Your Kadaj is a murderer. He's insane. He kidnapped Roxas, no matter what you might think of his intentions, and tried once to kill Axel, before beating Roxas into hospital."

Roxas' eyes closed, he sucked in a breath. "Mother doesn't deny that the one who called himself Sephiroth has made mistakes, but they were born of pain. He was confused." Blue eyes flashed open, hard, determined. "I wish to take him with me."

"Where?" Leon demanded incredulously. "You think he's getting _anywhere _near the castle?"

"He will have to," she replied curtly. "That is, _if _you want Roxas to survive."

Stillness. "What do you mean?" Vincent asked.

"Roxas is not answering," she said sharply. "Mother cannot reach him. Perhaps he is dying, I cannot be sure, but I will not let you heal him until my demands have been met."

"You'd sacrifice your own son?" the man asked quickly, as Leon exploded into a snarl.

"I wish for there to be _no _sacrifice," the remnant program answered with something akin to frustration. "But I will use one son to save another, yes, and hope that your decisions mean that both can survive."

Leon was shaking his head. "This is _madness,"_ he stated furiously. He glared down at the silver-haired man. "Why are you even still alive? Cloud said you were dead!"

Kadaj blinked slowly. "Cloud?"

"Meet my demands," Jenova commanded. "Or you risk losing Roxas."

Vincent looked over at Leon, met storm-grey eyes with helplessness. The scarred man ground his teeth, scowled at the ground. Vincent lowered his gaze once more to the pair, speculative, sliding his gun carefully away. "What exactly…" He flicked a glance at the bleeding man. "…did you have in mind?"

Jenova told them and, minutes later, the two men walked from the cabin, each weighed down with a body.


	45. Chapter 45

**A/N: **And then there was one. I hope you guys realise that I can never read that line of Leon's again without grinning like an idiot. I was going through doing a fine edit, got to "This is _madness"_, and the tension balled up and died under the face of my chuckling. WAY TO RUIN THE MOOD, GUYS! XP Sorry this is late (I know, I know, BAD APOLOGISER!) but I had a tough time getting their reactions right. Kadaj is a difficult creature to anticipate. And it was generally a bitch in general, this pleasant, lovely little chapter. Still, hopefully you'll find the direction I chose to be satisfactory, and neeext chapter, we wrap up! Excuse me, whilst I go sob in the emo corner D:

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CHAPTER FORTY-FIVE

Kadaj had an army-issue motorbike tucked away into the trees, creating a tense moment during which Vincent, Leon and Jenova argued over who would ride it out of the forest, while the remaining pair hiked back to where Cloud's bike rested several miles away. Though he was a key subject in the discussion, Kadaj stood silently by, under Vincent's watchful eye, and stared blankly at the trees. It was when they tried to tie his hands that the silver-haired man finally reacted, panicked. "W – wait," he exclaimed anxiously, pulling away from Leon only to fall back into Vincent, a hand closing tightly around each arm. His eyes widened, breaths suddenly shallow and shrill. He wrenched forward, fighting to break the man's grip, crying with increasing lack of control, "Let me _go!" _He sucked in deeply, stiffened, then let out a growl, collapsing his weight onto Vincent as he kicked his legs high. He grabbed Leon by the neck before the brunet could react in time, the toe of one boot curling behind his spine while the heel of the other jammed into his larynx. _"I said let me go,"_ he snarled.

Leon froze, scarcely able to inhale, small creaks escaping his lips as he attempted to, with increasing need. Vincent had his gun out even as the man was moving, jabbed the barrel under Kadaj's chin, muttering as soon as he finished speaking, "Let him go."

"Oh, I insist, you _first," _the soldier hissed.

"Stop! That is enough!" Roxas' voice was high, demanding, alarmed by the rate at which things had transpired, sluggish senses rendering Jenova slower to react. Kadaj twisted his head, pupils vast, body quivering in its arrow-like position. Leon's desperate choking filled the silence, the world seeming to hold its breath as the silver-haired man hung poised between choices. Roxas' head shook slowly from side to side. "If you do not behave," Jenova said, a warning in her tone, "you will be taken away from mother."

Kadaj's eyes narrowed, chest hitching slightly, head angling back minutely under the pressure of Vincent's gun. A tense moment passed, before the man abruptly unwound from Leon, boots clumping heavily to the mud. In a heartbeat, Vincent had him hauled up, arm twisted securely behind his back, the gun digging against his jaw. Lips peeled from teeth, Kadaj leaned his face away from the threat, though it relentlessly followed. Leon was bent, gasping, hands wrapped around his neck. His head lifted, he spat hoarsely, "He's _insane."_

"I don't want to be tied up!" the man cried back.

"Should've thought of that before you became a _murdering, kidnapping bastard!"_

"Enough," Jenova repeated sharply, stepping in among them with a glare. "Both of you, discontinue speaking. And you – " A finger swept up to stab at Vincent. "Remove your weapon from Kadaj."

"This _isn't _going to work," Leon said angrily, straightening, hair a mess. "We have to get rid of him!"

Kadaj resumed his struggles at the statement, Jenova bristling, fingers closing tight around the jewellery box, but before she could launch into a tirade, Vincent quietly asked, "Do you want to be the one to do it, Leon?"

"_No one will harm Kadaj," _Roxas raged. "We had an agreement, Committee members!"

Leon, however, was looking suddenly startled. "I didn't mean – "

"It's a little different out of the heat of battle – I doubt you're ready to become an assassin," the amber-eyed man continued softly. "And those days of mine are too distant for this."

The brunet sighed sharply, dragging the heel of his palm across his creased brow. "Okay, fine." His gaze found Kadaj, cold. "But anymore shit like that, and I will personally knock you out and drag you to the castle behind the bike, got it?"

"It's a fucking _deal," _the silver-haired man sneered in return.

"Kadaj," Jenova cautioned. He hesitated, lapsed into dark silence. Leon stared, shook his head.

"Whatever," he muttered to himself. He lifted his eyes, met with Vincent's. "So, you'll stick with him?" He frowned at the answering nod. "Be careful."

Jenova eyed them both narrowly. "I am still not happy about this separation." She looked at Kadaj, concern flickering to life in Roxas' blue eyes. "But I have been reassured that at least the ex-assassin will not cause harm…" A deep breath was heaved. "Kadaj." The man glanced up resentfully. "You must not cause trouble during the journey. Mother will be waiting at the castle for you – please, do not be long. Roxas' physical form is failing. It requires rest." They all took a moment to stare, reminded that Roxas was, in fact, still present in the proceedings. Jenova was too good at consuming attention, twisting minds to see her as herself, rather than a ghost inhabiting a shell. Roxas was still as much a mess as ever – the dangerous chill had not subsided from his flesh, but Jenova controlled the shivers, kept them down, found them too distracting. The brightness of his eyes belonged not to him, but the program. Leon was gripped with sudden dread for what would be left of Roxas when all this was over. Forgetting his previous ire, his doubt, remembering why they agreed to this in the first place, he shrugged off his jacket, striding over to the boy.

"Put this on," he commanded. Kadaj's eyes thinned, from the tone of the man's voice and the fact that it was Leon, not he himself, helping Roxas.

"I'll behave," he said, drawing her attention. She smiled, nodded.

"Mother will meet you, then. You are her good boy, Kadaj."

Leon cut Vincent an irritated look. "We'll see you there. Watch yourself." Vincent inclined his head. Clamping his hands on Roxas' shoulders, Leon forcefully steered the boy over to where the bike sat, covered in tarpaulin, keys ready in the ignition. He ripped the cover away, a sense of urgency entering his blood. "Get on the bike."

Jenova was finding it difficult to keep the shaking down all of a sudden – the warmth of the jacket, Leon's own heat, was stealing control from her as Roxas' muscles fought to tremble and aid the process. She staggered a little, frowned, renewed her grip on the body, and climbed clumsily onto the machine, sitting awkwardly. Leon grabbed Roxas' hips, slid him back several inches, swung his own leg over the bike and settled, kicking up the stand. "Arms _around _me," he said with terse impatience, as Jenova continued to clutch the jacket closed. She reached forward, hooked them around the man's waist. A sharp sigh, Leon straightening briefly, grabbing Roxas' hands and tugging, tightening the blond's elbows around his ribs. Jenova let out an involuntary hiss on the boy's behalf, pain reaching up to her lofty position without warning. Grimly, Leon bent over the bike, started it up, put it into gear and set off.

There was an obvious trail to be followed from the cabin, where the tires had already churned the ground two days previously, and every time before that. Kadaj hadn't bothered keeping his entrances irregular, never imagining he would be discovered, perhaps not caring in his Cloud-obsessed state. The bike tore along, the air whipping and whistling around them, Roxas' grip tightening instinctively, even if the boy himself wasn't there to make it so. The fear gripping Leon's heart heightened a notch, took up residence. He changed gears, went faster.

They blew out onto the main road fifteen minutes later, while Vincent and Kadaj continued to trek through the woods, four miles left before they reached Cloud's vehicle of choice. The silver-haired man refused to speak, suiting Vincent just fine. The thin man sensed none of the madness swirling the air that he had been told of by those that had encountered him in the castle. No fires burnt within him now, there was resignation to his pose, mingled with… something else. Perhaps a small amount of anticipation? Vincent wondered what it was that had joined him so firmly to Jenova, even knowing that she was only a program. Then again, it was hardly surprising when he thought about it – her main prerogative was to protect and nurture the parentless, take them as her own, and for someone as traumatically disturbed as the young man in question, Vincent could imagine it being like a lifeline thrown into an endless ocean.

He spared the occasional sideways glance, to study as opposed to simply tracking at a peripheral level. There was – a blankness to the man's expression that hadn't existed in Jenova's presence. He sensed no remorse from his actions, nothing to suggest that he regretted having nearly killed one man, blasted a mere boy into eventual death, only three nights previously. He was the seasoned killer, it would seem, that Vincent had researched. He had been trained well, had put it to practice too many times to start repenting now. No doubt another factor to his madness, but then again, maybe not. After all, he hadn't been like this until Sephiroth had killed himself and three younger men… Vincent wondered who the third had been.

As they at last neared the bike, Kadaj started tugging restlessly at his bindings, which Vincent had applied, this time without struggle, after Jenova disappeared with Leon. "It was your own fault, you know," he said quietly, earning a startled glare, the man not expecting to be addressed. "You shouldn't have stolen the materials for your hut from the Committee supplies. It gave you away."

Kadaj stared for a moment, before asking faintly, "That's… how you found me?" Vincent nodded, going to where the bike rested. Kadaj followed behind. His eyes fell upon the machine, dulled, his motions pausing. "This is Cloud's."

"It is." Vincent gestured, cloak swinging. "Hop on. They'll be back by now. I doubt Jenova will want to be kept waiting."

"J…" Teal-green eyes remained fixed on the bike. "…We're riding… Fenrir?"

"You need to climb on now."

"Is Cloud going to be at the castle?" A faint thread of desperation. Vincent's gaze narrowed.

"Whether Cloud is there or not, it's time to leave. Jenova is the one holding your safety. Despite what I may have said earlier…" A silken quality entered his bearing, his tone. "I will do what is necessary, just as I always have, if it comes down to it."

Kadaj finally glanced away from the vehicle, the threat shivering the air. He stiffened, a flash of anger lighting his gaze, but as he looked backat the bike, almost against his will, it leaked away, replaced by something colder. "Alright. I'm ready to go."

They exited the forest ten minutes later, and started back towards the castle, Vincent's gun out of his holster, gripped awkwardly in his hand along with the handlebar, where Kadaj wouldn't be able to snatch at it if the mood struck him. He may have _seemed _tamed by the computer's manipulative tongue, but Vincent refused to take chances. To do so with a man such as the one he was ferrying would be foolishness. Still, Kadaj stayed silent at his back, his presence empty though his body was warm. Vincent thought of Roxas in his frozen state, and hoped wearily that the boy would be okay.

They drew up to the castle, engine rumbling, throbbing, then cutting out. The path was deserted. Vincent was certain that Roxas was within Aerith's care, very possibly already taken to hospital, whether Jenova allowed it or not. Roxas' life might have seemed virtually expendable to her, considering her actions so far, but there wasn't a single person within those walls that would tolerate such treatment of him. The thought of Aerith versus Jenova was briefly amusing, if a touch disconcerting.

The man looped Kadaj's arms back over his head, climbed from the bike, returning his gun to its home at his thigh. He turned to see that the soldier had remained in place, was staring down at the machine. "We need to go in," Vincent said on a sigh. "The others will be waiting for you. Jenova will be."

"She said… she'd meet me," Kadaj muttered, face to the side.

"Roxas will be being cared for," the man replied patiently. "He looks awful. Leon won't have just waited around outside with Roxas slowly dying while we walked through the woods. Jenova is inside."

Kadaj lowered his head, shoulders hunching, trembling briefly before lifting his head and yelling, "How do I know this isn't a trick? How do I know you haven't – haven't taken her away, and – and – "

Vincent grunted softly, faintly surprised by the motion that caught his attention, twisting his head to note it. "She's here." Kadaj looked up sharply, trepidation washing over his tightening features at the party of people that had emerged from the castle. Roxas descended first, alongside DiZ, Aerith and Leon glaring in the background. Someone, probably Aerith, had cleaned the blood from the multitude of claw marks marring the blond's face. He had a thick fur-lined overcoat on, though his same ripped and wet clothes peeked through the flapping opening with each step. There was a grim look to his expression, a displeasure that made Kadaj cower slightly. Roxas' movements were graceful, just a slight limp, Jenova overriding his weaknesses to appear more confident. From the way that Leon and Aerith were eyeing him off, Vincent suspected that any false moves would have them clubbing him over the head and dragging him back down the mountain to a room near Axel's.

It was only as they neared that Roxas relaxed a little, Jenova sending Kadaj a small smile. She stopped, lifted her icy hands to cup his face, Kadaj flinching uncertainly at the touch. "Mother is here now." Blue eyes rose to his forehead, the dried blood providing a war-paint down his nose, through his brows. "Is Kadaj's head still hurting?"

He blinked, slight confusion touching his features. "I – I don't know. I can't… feel."

Jenova turned to the pink-clad brunette. "You must heal him."

Aerith's eyes flashed. "I will do no such thing. This _man…" _Hate, foreign and bewildered, mixed with pain in her gaze. "… killed a boy, kidnapped another, stabbed Axel, and – and the _state _of Roxas…" She drew a sharp, angry breath. "He shouldn't even be here at all."

"Nevertheless, he is now my son," Jenova stated, making Kadaj jolt, eyes widening at the blunt force of the declaration. Aerith's eyes became slits, her voice rising to echo from the castle walls, swallowed by the ravine. _"He is not a Twilight Child! _How _dare _you rank this _monster _among the orphans?"

Kadaj's breath hitched. "I'm not a monster," he croaked, drawing her gaze.

"You don't deserve peace," she replied coldly. His brows rose, a hopelessness entering his expression, mouth slackening. His desperate gaze locked with hers for a long moment, disappointment sharp. "I… don't?"

She frowned, as Jenova scowled, seethed. The anger on Roxas' face, directed _her way, _was enough to silence Aerith, withdrawing into hurt uncertainty. Her green eyes flickered back to Kadaj, puzzled, hesitant. "Kadaj deserves what all mother's children have," Jenova said firmly. Roxas' hands slipped into his, the man's wrists still bound. She squeezed them, drew him carefully off the bike, focusing on keeping him steady. His knees sank a little, slight lack of focus in his eyes suggesting a concussion. Jenova tutted, took him by the hand, turned back to the castle. DiZ blocked her way.

"I don't think I can allow this," he said, for once irresolution in his tone. Roxas' chin lifted, Jenova calm.

"Master, you have little choice," she reminded him. "I may have relinquished the core back into your care, but I still exert control over its actions. We are one and the same – if you deceive me, you deceive the core. We will not function until we have our newest son in our care."

The one golden eye tightened with conflicted frustration. "You call me 'master'," he growled, "yet you utterly ignore me and make your own decisions. I _created _you."

"Children do not forever remain within the influence of their authority," she softly replied. "You have taken enough of my children, I have let enough of them go, for me to understand this."

"…You are far more sentient within Roxas," he observed, not without disapproval, single eye squinting.

Roxas, in a very unmechanical way, shrugged. "Within Roxas, I do not have a city and its occupants to focus on."

The man pursed his mouth, gaze transferring to the soldier gripping her hand, a half-dazed, half-wary stamp across his features. "And what do you have to say about this? Why should I allow a high-ranked Zanarkand soldier with a recent history of violent insanity into Twilight Town, among _children, _young people trying to live their lives?"

"_Why_ has nothing to do with it," Jenova cut in warningly. "I have delivered you the ultimatum, you have no choice but to agree, or doom not only Roxas, but the entirety of Twilight Town to obscurity."

He stared for a long moment, uncomprehending. "Why?" he uttered at last. "How have you become this attached to someone not even part of the program?"

"Mother is a mother to all that need," she replied sharply. "She does not discriminate from one child to the next."

He sent her a hard look, glanced back at Kadaj. "You do realise what she is attempting, don't you? She would have you trapped within the simulation for the rest of your days – you would, effectively, be imprisoned indefinitely."

The silver-haired man lowered his chin slightly. "Isn't that… what would happen anyway?" He looked at them from under his brow. "You found me. I'm tied up. I've hurt people." He glanced away. "The simple fact that I – I ran away… would have me dishonourably discharged. C-Cloud owns all our possessions." He stumbled over the name. "I have… nothing." Hollowness. "Where's my bag?" He lifted his head sharply, panicking. "Where's my bag?! My gun – _my brother's gun, _where is it?" They all stared at him blankly, including Leon and Vincent, who hadn't thought to bring the man's belongings along. "Th-there's a bullet in it, for me. I n-need my _brother's gun."_

In the face of the others' shock, Jenova cradled his chin. "You will not need your brother's gun. You are coming home with mother." Her touch remaining gentle, she turned her head, voice like ice, and said, "Roxas continues to degenerate. I no more want him harmed than I do Kadaj, but you drag this out and endanger him. His core temperature is _low. _He is _infected. _Either find a definitive argument, or let's move this along."

"But…" DiZ shook his head slowly. "How will he be any better off within the simulation? He will be the same person. His mind will be as disturbed as ever, even with his memories smoothed over. It will be like delivering a time-bomb into the confines of an elevator."

"Then the memories will be removed," she answered harshly. "They will be dug out at their root and replaced. Do not act as if I do not know it can be _done. _The girl-child will make it possible – I am her _mother, _I _know _her mind, I know her _skills." _She eyed him haughtily, his budding resignation. "Now, do you acquiesce, or is this futile bickering going to continue? You do not have time on your side, and I will not relent." She looked back to Kadaj, a frown forming on Roxas' beaten features. "My son… needs saving."

"Yes, he does," Leon agreed curtly. "From you. We have no choice right now, DiZ – Roxas is sick, you can tell just by looking at him. If we don't get him to hospital soon, we might be too late. We need to get this _done."_

The man fell steadily into a glare as Leon spoke, his gaze locked on Roxas'. A long, tense moment passed. "Very well," he muttered. "Luxord should have installed the core by now. We will go directly to the computer laboratory." He stepped back, folded his arms sharply behind his back, and turned on the spot, stalking regally back up the ramp. Her grip tighter on Kadaj's weak hand, Jenova tugged gently, got him walking. Together, they made their way up to the castle entrance, just as Cloud emerged, a wild look in his eyes. Leon faltered, glanced between him and Kadaj. "Cloud…"

The man's wide blue eyes found him, blank for a moment. "Why – didn't you tell me he was here? Why didn't you tell me it was…" He looked back to the silver-haired man. "…him?"

Kadaj had stopped, was staring at Cloud, frozen still. Slowly, incredibly gradually, he turned his head to look at Roxas. His gaze stayed for a moment, before swivelling back. "…Cloud?" A long moment passed, in which the two men just looked at each other, blue eyes conflicted, green strangely empty. Confusion flickered a moment later. "Sephiroth's gone." Cloud's expression sagged with pity, tinged with anger, frustration.

"Why did you _do _this?" he asked through his teeth.

"…You left us." His head turned slowly away, eyes lowering blankly to the ground. "I tried to make it… as if you never had."

"Continue, please," DiZ called impatiently from ahead, already within the castle. Jenova was more than ready to comply, already pulling the man along, Kadaj coming easily. Cloud caught his elbow, jerked them to a brief stop, gaze wide and pleading. "Just – tell me what happened? With Sephiroth. Did you – did _you_ do it?"

Kadaj paused, shook his head, an almost thoughtful expression fixed on his features, though it was torn in places. "I came home," he said quietly, "and they were dead on the kitchen floor… He was in his chair, and his head was gone." Tears pricked at his eyes, though he didn't seem to notice them, face not acknowledging them, that same look remaining. "He didn't bother to wait for me." Cloud hitched a pained breath, features dropping even further, as his brows rose into his hair. His eyes were a study in agony, on behalf of the broken young man standing before him, relating the tale so – so calmly. "And so," Kadaj continued softly, "I found our aide, and I shot him. He had hair… just like mine…" His fingers raised, Jenova releasing him, and touched the frayed ends of his silver locks. Cloud closed his eyes sharply. "At least now I know what I'll look like," he murmured, "if I ever decide to blow my face off."

"_That's enough." _The blond's voice shook, horror and rage, and deep, deep despair. He was crying. Kadaj raised his eyes gradually, met Cloud's, and again, they stared. "Keep going, Kadaj," the man said at last, tremulously. "DiZ is waiting."

The green irises settled for a moment on the tears sliding down his face, faintly interested in why, or perhaps even how. He nodded slightly. "Bye, Cloud." He hesitated, before adding, "I'm leaving you now." He slipped his hand back into Roxas', and he and Jenova continued up to the castle, leaving the blond to sag into Leon's arms, the brunet never far away. His low moan followed them in through the broad doors, and was lost.

Demyx was just inside, standing anxiously beside Aerith, who had her arms around him, the stricken look on her face telling that she had overheard the exchange. A small noise escaped Demyx's throat as he saw Roxas, a hand fluttering up to his mouth. Shortly, DiZ commanded, "Demyx, find Naminé, bring her to the computer laboratory immediately. It would seem – " Golden eye flashed balefully in their Jenova's direction. " – that Roxas' life depends upon it."

The blond swallowed, ventured, "Roxas?" as Jenova and Kadaj went walking by. His eyes were stuck on their joined hands. Jenova ignored him, they passed him by. His voice became shrill: "Roxas?"

Footsteps, leading away. He let go of Aerith, trailed behind them, deflecting DiZ's stern, "Demyx. Naminé. Now."

"Roxas, _Axel misses you," _he cried out, grabbing at the collar of his t-shirt, tugging with distress.

Roxas paused. His head turned slightly to the side, chin tucking in. Jenova tightened her grip on Kadaj. In a voice so like his own, the blond said, "Roxas misses his love also. They are good boys." He glanced over his shoulder, smiled. "As are you, and your own."

They resumed walking, left Demyx to struggle with her words and be sent by Aerith to find Naminé. The brunette woman followed the small group at a distance, hesitant, a little lost. DiZ led the way with heartfelt disgruntlement. Their steps took them through the winding passageways, over the clanking metal walkway, onto the clicking tiles and the bright illumination. The system terminal was still a mess – slashed metal, shattered glass in the controls that hadn't quite been all dug out – but the technicians had been working in continuous shifts to restore it to useable functionality virtually since the moment the core had vanished. They had fully expected it to return – too many of them would lose their direction in the world if it was gone for good. They _had _to believe it would come back – and it had.

Luxord looked up, startled by the sudden influx. "Stand aside," DiZ said, a growl in his tone. "I will control the proceedings from here, until Naminé arrives." He sat himself in the master chair, spreading his robes neatly, focusing with hard determination on the screen. He began to rapidly type. Instantly in his element, the man quickly interfaced with the newly re-installed core, reconnecting threads between the system and its point of control. At one point, he grunted. Roxas smiled thinly. "I told you. We are one and the same."

"And what will happen to you when this occurs?" DiZ asked tersely, continuing to work quickly. "Am I to believe that you will simply submerge and be gone from Roxas? It isn't safe to have you within him. It is a constant security breach."

"I have no intention of staying within Roxas," Jenova responded. "It is not my place to remain. We are already aware of the unnatural situation this has become – we were aware from the beginning. It was not our choice to be mutated and kept within his tissue." She pursed her lips. "Remember, I have given many children before now. I have no reason to change."

"What can we expect?" the man demanded, the information crossing the screen in a barely legible stream.

"I will burn away," she said simply. "As I should have." Kadaj turned slightly, a fearful, questioning look in his eyes. She smiled. "Mother will be with you, though. We go together."

Naminé entered, with Demyx and Zexion following closely. The blonde girl froze at the sight of Roxas with Kadaj. "R-Roxas?" she stammered, wide-eyed.

Roxas smiled. "Hello, child."

Aerith shifted to her, held her shoulders. "It's okay," she said softly. "Things are going to be fine. We need your help, Naminé." Roxas' eyes sharpened, studying the brunette's movements.

DiZ turned, glared at Demyx and Zexion. "I had not intended this to become a circus attraction," he said crisply. "But now that you are here, you must stay." The chair swivelled, he faced the group. "Naminé, this man needs a new set of memories." He gestured curtly to the silver-haired soldier. "The core has been reinstated; use it to find all the data on him that is available, build him a life inside Twilight Town." His gaze was hard. "It must be flawless and foolproof. If he has even a single breach, it could utterly destroy his mind. I don't suppose I need to tell you how devastating that could be on those surrounding him."

If possible, the girl's eyes got rounder, pale eyebrows rising. "Um…" Aerith squeezed her.

"You were chosen because you can _do _it," she said softly. "It's going to be okay – you know this stuff, right, Naminé?"

"Mother knows you are capable," Roxas interjected, fixing Naminé with a steady look. "She has felt your touch on many occasions, wiping slates clean, remoulding as directed. You must recreate my new son Kadaj – you must make him happy."

The man clung to Roxas' hand, a bewildered, slightly trapped expression in place. Naminé stared, along with Demyx and Zexion. "You're… the core," Zexion realised faintly. Roxas smiled again, affectionate and gentle.

"Mother has missed your presence within the simulation." Her eyes switched to Naminé. "She misses all her children. She feels the space where they once stood, and breathed." Demyx surreptitiously wound a possessive arm around Zexion, a little fearful.

"Naminé," DiZ sighed, rubbing his fingertips at his forehead. "Hurry. This is no small matter, by any means." The girl hesitated, shifted over to the terminal, standing beside the chair, delicate hands hovering for a moment over the controls. She glanced over her shoulder at Kadaj, worried, before slowly turning back to the workstation. A slight falter of her fingers, and then they were quickly, precisely tapping away, golden hair swinging down past her shoulders, brushing her upper arms, blue eyes focused. A small crease appeared between her brows, concentration setting in. While she worked, DiZ once more faced the collective, grimly. "This never leaves this room, are we understood? We never laid eyes on the General's younger brother. Roxas was never gone from the castle, and neither were present when Vaan was shot." His eye found Kadaj, who stood mute through the speech, looking dazed. "The man was shot dead by his own brother. That is how it shall remain."

A murmured chorus of assent. Silence developed. Jenova absently stroked Kadaj's knuckles, shifting restlessly, small shivers occurring every now and then despite the sweat gradually slickening Roxas' face. "Is this going to take long?" Kadaj muttered. "I don't feel very well." Concerned, Jenova turned to him, cupped his face, smiled tightly.

"It won't be much longer, child. Then mother can take care of you properly. She will put you to bed until you are healthy again." His eyes found Roxas' slowly, studied them for a long moment.

"…Is Roxas going to be okay?"

Sad worry, an upward curve of the lips. "I'm sure your brother will be fine."

Kadaj frowned. "Then... he really _is _like Cloud. Both of them are like… brothers." Aerith stiffened across the room, something akin to anguish flashing through her eyes. Kadaj said no more, sank into himself, as Jenova lovingly picked the thin coat of dried blood from his face, making him flinch more often than not.

At last, Naminé's tapping slowed, sped up in one final burst, ceased. She straightened, brushing her hair to lie down her back, taking a deep breath and letting it free. She sounded abruptly exhausted. "There," she said, in her usual soft voice. "It's done." She turned, hands forming a nervous arch as her fingertips met. "I did the absolute – best that I could."

"Is it good enough?" DiZ demanded. She shot him a glance, grimaced, nodded after a moment.

"I believe so."

"Will it make him happy?" Jenova asked, a frown in place. "Will Kadaj have peace?"

Naminé took a breath. "When he passes through, into the system, his pre-existing memories will be buried under the new ones. They won't re-emerge, I'm certain of it. I've tied in new circumstances with the old, to fit them together… It should work." She shrugged helplessly. "That's all I can offer, really: it should work."

"It's good enough for now," DiZ growled. "You can improve on it later, seal his mind off properly. For now…" He flicked his gaze to the bedraggled pair. "It is time for this to happen. We have lingered enough as it is. Jenova:" She lifted Roxas' chin, the vaguest challenge in place. "You will control him, or he will be eliminated. Do not forget that you are not in sole control of Twilight Town – if I feel that either he, or you by association, is a danger to its occupants, I _will _take measures to correct the problem, make no mistake."

"I have already taken that into account," she replied coolly. "I am not willing for any of my children to be harmed. I will monitor Kadaj closely, I assure you, master. He needs as much of mother's love and attention as she can give." She put pressure on his hand, drawing his attention over. He smiled, confused, but with the same brilliance he had possessed in the throes of his madness. It was a beautiful, disturbed expression. Aerith closed her eyes briefly.

"Well, then," DiZ grunted. "Everyone, to the sides of the room." The gathered selection instantly shifted away, leaving Roxas and Kadaj by themselves in the centre. Jenova turned to the man, took his face in her hands, held him firmly.

"Mother will be waiting for you. She will not abandon Kadaj, not ever." Roxas' hand trailed slowly down his face. "Kadaj must stay in place, and be calm. You are going where the war-orphans go." She released him, stepped back towards the terminal, a smile in place, encouraging, concerned. She glanced down at DiZ, nodded slightly. "We are ready to depart."

DiZ didn't wait, started typing immediately. A blue light flickered to life in the centre of the broad circle on the back wall. It found Kadaj, scanned him briefly. DiZ grunted, engaged the core, and Roxas suddenly bucked. His head flung back, hands spasming wide, a deep gasp dragging into his lungs. Kadaj grew alarmed. "What's – "

Jenova fought, sent him a crazed, shaking smile. "I am required… to join the whole…" The blue light spread, became a grid, flashed and cemented the silver-haired man in place. Roxas bent over double, clutching his stomach with a low cry, strings of saliva descending from his wide-spread jaws. A pained whimper escaped him; he whispered, _"Mother," _and a moment later, collapsed to the tiles. No one moved to grab him, the danger of interrupting the insertion process holding them back, though all that stood leaned instinctively forward, fear and sympathy on their faces.

"Wh-what happened?" Kadaj demanded, still unable to move. The system was ready to insert him, but he clung to reality, locking himself in place. "Where did she go?" He started to breath heavily, distressed. "Mother?"

Aerith lowered her face, took a breath, shook her head. "Kadaj?" His eyes jerked toward her, filled with panic. She clamped her jaw, eyebrows drawn together, and gently said, "You don't have to hang on any longer." His eyes shimmered, lips shivered, a swallow taken.

"You – said…"

"Everyone's waiting, if you're ready," she added, eyes slipping shut. And there – that long crack in his soul, that broken quality, it was revealed plainly in his face, exposing him to them all. He was frozen in place, but his spirit moved, blackened in so many places, undulating uncertainly, caught between tainting the air and hiding away. _Peace. _He desired it, above all. His soul cried for it. He drew a split breath, shuddering, gaze shifting back to where Roxas lay crumpled. "Mother…"

The light sliced through him, broke him apart, shattered him and sucked him away, piece by miniscule piece into the network. Aerith started crying quietly, a hand rising to her face. The small blue light died away, and Kadaj, Sephiroth, everything to do with that part of Cloud's life, was gone. The brunette went to Roxas, bent at his side, took him into her arms and cradled him, and to Vincent, who had stood by the door the entire time, it was like entering the cabin all over again, watching a 'mother' hold her injured 'child', and want nothing more than to keep him safe.

He drew a breath, watched for a moment longer, then turned, shoes clicking quietly over the metal walkway, amber eyes darkened by tired lashes. He went to find Yuffie, to eat, and to sleep.

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Roxas was lost in darkness. For a long time, his thoughts drifted, passing from one eddying stream to the next, never alighting for more than a moment or two before moving on. The world was comprised of black outer, glittering inner, and a fine slice between the two in which he resided. Slow, high noises sparkled in and out of being, drawing his attention from time to time, but more often than not, he would retreat from them, return to the oceans, the rivers, the gullies and brooks and expanse of space. He found himself searching, but he couldn't be sure of what. Years passed, decades, centuries, in which the feeling gnawed at him – something was missing, something was _needed. _He followed every trail his glowing feet touched, never quite able to cease seeking.

At long last, his toes touched white sand. He existed, like a shadow exists inside a pocket of nothingness, and stared out at the bright world. The sun was high, the air still but cool, and splashes of colour pitter-pattered from place to place. A happy noise filled the world – high, excited squealing. Roxas blinked, and the ghosts came into view, small, gleeful creatures, one with red hair and acid-green eyes, the other short, blond, chubby. They were happy together. They were… having fun.

A low bubble of laughter caught him, dragged his eyes over to where two young women sat on a low park bench, chatting, one eye forever kept upon their charges. One of them bounced a baby on her knee. The scene segued suddenly, Roxas found himself in a room, blue walls, old furniture. The same ghosts, the same situation, only different: the blond ghost had a boat. The boat was made of wood. The other boy, with his hair forced back into a tie, had a boat, too, different to the blond's, and he was attempting to show the the smaller how one could tug the other… And there were voices in the background, soft and feminine, and a baby was coughing out the first needy sounds of a cry…

A cool hand touched his forehead, just as one of the voices whispered in his memory. His lips parted, he murmured, "Mom?"

"_Roxas, it's time to wake up."_

He opened his eyes, hoarsely repeated, "Mom?" She smiled, was gone, was never there in the first place, except… he could still picture her. Could picture the room, and the playground, and the women, and the baby. He could… he remembered… It was brief, it was only a snatch, but – he thought he could still hear Kairi crying, and Axel instructing him on how to join the boats together. He could… he could see his thick, clumsy fingers struggling. And… he wasn't entirely sure, couldn't say for certain, but – he thought he remembered that little red-haired boy eventually taking the boat away, hooking the two together _for _him, and graciously handing them back… Axel had been – a good friend.

A low, steady beeping drew the fog away from the world. Roxas' head turned sideways, slowly, noting with only a small amount of surprise the machine beside the bed. His fingers twitched, chest swelling with the first deep breath he'd drawn in days. He blinked sleepily, and stared at the machine regulating the fluid into his body, another beside it focused on his temperature, another next to that concentrating on his heart-rate. There was a needle in his arm, a clamp on his fingertip, an obstruction when he swallowed. He screwed up his face, let out a small, baffled noise, reached one hand carefully up and felt the slender tube taped to his nose, leading up into his nasal cavity, curling down into his stomach. It was uncomfortable, stung. He didn't like it, but left it alone, hand drifting back down onto the sheet. He blinked for a while, in a haze, before realising that he hadn't yet found what he'd been looking for. It was still there – that nagging desire for something out of reach, something he needed, but couldn't touch.

It really didn't take too long to figure out what that something was. He could only wonder at the fact that he hadn't known sooner, had spent all those millennia hunting, when a mere ten minutes in the real world brought his answer so clearly.

He sat carefully, feeling tightness around his middle, bandages wrapped firm. It was echoed in his right thigh, reminding him vaguely of all the ills his body had endured. He felt weak, but stronger than he last remembered being. It was easier, this time, to unpeel the sheets, to twist and then stand. He took hold of the tube in his nose, gagged as it scraped up through his throat, left it leaking on the bed. Next to go was the connection to the IV, the latch clumsily undone, a dose of his blood rushing to fill the small canister connected to the needle still snugly splinted to his arm. A beep sounded, a measure of liquid pumping out onto the floor with a trickling noise. Roxas stared at his heart-monitor, eyes following its power cord to the wall. He leaned past the machines, wrapped his hand around the plug, and tugged. When he then removed the clamp from his finger, no alarm sounded. There was nothing to realise that, according to the data, his heart had just ceased beating.

He staggered to the door, head swimming, clutched the frame and rested against it, but again, it wasn't so _hard _this time. Perhaps the pain was less, or maybe Roxas had just got… used to it. He opened the door cautiously, exited into the hallway, blinking at the dim lights illuminating every few feet of ground at this late hour, allowing the nurses to see on their rounds.

Aerith was waiting for him. Roxas gasped, choked a little, fell faintly against the wall as she stood from the hard orange chair that had been set up outside his room in the hallway. She folded shut the book she had been holding, tucked it against her side. "They said you'd wake up sometime today," she said softly, before Roxas could attempt to gather what little wits were present in order to offer some kind of communication. "So I thought I'd hang around for a while. I've spent enough time here lately to be used to it." There was silence between them, Roxas' poor, sleep-addled brain swirling, the fact that she was even _here_ enough to confuse him into helplessness. Aerith, however, seemed to be waiting for him to speak. At last, he managed to utter, "Axel."

She nodded, crossed her wrists over her skirt. "He's in another part of the hospital." She smiled sadly. "I'll take you to him, if you'd like. It's why I stayed." Roxas could only nod. She hooked an arm through his, led his limping, hobbling form down the long hallway, crossing into another, finding his old room from the last time he'd been a patient, her shoes clicking, his feet soundless. They stopped, she let him go, drew a breath and gradually released. "Well, here you are. I'll be waiting outside, in case a nurse comes. Their rounds don't repeat for a little while though." She swallowed, eyes finding him in the darkness. "…Roxas?"

He struggled. "Yes – Aerith?"

"…It's – it's going to be okay, now. No one's going to hurt you anymore."

He was slow to follow, but eventually nodded. "I know… All the bad people are gone." When nothing more was said, he turned the handle, entered the redhead's room. Aerith drew it shut behind him, when he simply shuffled forward. He approached the bed, gazed down at the figure beneath the sheets. Blue eyes travelled to the bulky section where the man's leg had been put back together, was being held tightly in place. The blond inhaled slowly, sighed quietly. He went around to the other side of the bed, climbed slowly in beside the figure, movements stiff, wanting little more than to just fall asleep all over again. As he carefully burrowed into Axel's side, he felt the redhead stir. Roxas stilled, waited with full, fluttering lungs, but the man didn't waken. Too full of chemical, he merely drifted back away from the surface of consciousness. The teen relaxed. He adjusted his position, grunting lightly at the spines of pain that sparked from time to time, but he had felt it all before, was drugged himself, nerve-endings being soothed by little, injected voices that told them everything was fine.

Roxas settled with his head on Axel's shoulder, and spent the next several, sleepy minutes studying him. It didn't pay to think about what had happened, what would come, what almost prevented this, what could have killed them both. Instead, he lifted one hand, brushed a few vibrant strands away from the closed eyes, pressed the pads of his fingers to Axel's jaw, and tilted his face towards him. Again, for a little while, he just stared, watched. Then, he placed a kiss upon the slumbering lips.

There was no fairy-tale ending to all this. The badly injured redhead didn't flicker into waking, called by his beloved's tender mouth – he slept on, as his body would have him do, even if his heart, given the choice, would have had another scenario play out.

It wasn't long before Roxas' own body followed suit, his mind slipping away as his eyes fell shut. It didn't matter that Axel didn't see him yet. When he eventually woke up, he would, and for once, all would be right with the world.


	46. Chapter 46

**A/N: **I remember… when people thought this was going to end with Roxas leaving Twilight Town. HAHAHAHAH. HAHAHA. HA. (am hysterical). I also remember freaking out, roughly six weeks ago, that I'd never be able to tie it all together. Seriously, major internal freak-out, hefty lump of depression, certain that you guys would all find the ending weak, and the story in general just random. This is, without a doubt, the largest story I have ever written, in over eight years, and that includes the days of yore where I mastered the art of dribbling without point.

I can't tell you enough times how much I've appreciated the support, encouragement, love and aid you guys have provided. Thank you for reining me in when I needed it, thank you for picking up the IDIOTIC FUCKING SPELLING/GRAMMATICAL errors, thank you for telling me what you do and don't like, and just, everything. Seriously – thanks :D

The way I'm going on now, you'd think this was my good-bye-forever speech, but I'm moving onto another AkuRoku in a few days – this monster has just been such a big part of my life for a while that it's a big deal for me to be letting it go. I know there's some reviews I haven't replied to yet, but I really wanted to just totally focus on the chapter – I promise, review again, and I _will _respond, because I won't have a chapter to get done anytime in the next week or so :D

Haha, and one last note: Kim, with the friend who is a Final Fantasy addict, make sure to leave me your email if you review this one, so I can reply!

Gawwwd, you guys – just, much love, okay? Seriously. Sorry for the gigantic A/N :P And speaking of gigantic – thanks for getting through all this with me :D (hokay, shutting up now).

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CHAPTER FORTY-SIX

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_One Month Later…_

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Cloud sat on his usual hillside, near the bike shed, in the dirt and grass that grew in patches now that the weather had turned more rainy. A storm had visited during the night, had drowned the world and moved on, though the sky was still dark, the clouds still present and heavy. Looking up at them, the blond predicted that they were in for another lashing soon enough. The drips in the ceilings would need to be monitored – the Committee couldn't patch them until the roofing tiles dried a little more. The last thing they needed was something slipping and breaking a leg. As a result, there were now pots and pans littering the castle, catching droplets with a steady pattering, Demyx happily collecting the water into bottles to store in his wardrobe. He also took delight in flinging the contents at people in the hallways – apparently, this happened every winter. The musician was about the only one of them that viewed the change of weather with happiness – the rain really was a bitch, cut them off from the city when things got too bad. It was just fortunate, Cloud supposed, that they were as self-sufficient as they were.

Right now, there was a sharpness to it all, to the colours, the air. Sounds travelled more crisply, in the stillness, as the environment took a breath before resuming its wet passion. His pants were damp from sitting on the ground like this. He had come to check on the bike, make sure that it wasn't getting waterlogged, that the shed, at least, was as well-sealed from the elements as ever. In a sleeveless turtleneck zip-up, Cloud could feel the cold nipping at his arms, but… it was a good feeling. It was invigorating, in a way, even if all he wanted was to be quiet with his thoughts. Between his warm fingers, he held Sephiroth's ID tags, the chain brushing the ground just the slightest amount as he smoothed his thumbs over the engravings. His eyes, however, were not on the words, not on the glinting metal, blue irises instead scanning the horizon, lost inside the dark grey meeting the mountains, too busy inhaling the chill to focus on any of the deeper emotions the necklace wrought upon him. Cloud drew a breath, eyelashes fluttering closed for a moment.

Footsteps across the earth, heavy and, from the sounds of it, caked with mud. He turned his head slightly, chin settling on his shoulder, smiled as the owner of the steps came into view. Leon had his hands in his pockets, eyes touching warily on the tags in Cloud's grasp as he approached. He slowed to a stop beside the blond, the slow breeze ruffling the ends of his hair, which he'd been growing out a little lately, to combat the cold. "How's Fenrir?" he asked. Cloud shrugged, small smile still in place.

"Dry." Leon grunted slightly, nodded. Cloud rolled a shoulder, facing forward again. "Take a seat."

Leon frowned at the dirt. "My ass'll get wet."

"My ass _is _wet," the blond rejoined. "You might as well suffer with me."

The brunet snuffed a breath of a laugh, pulled his hands from his pockets and stepped closer, sank down into a cross-legged position, their knees bumping. "You know," he said conversationally, "I really don't see why I should suffer, too. After all, no one's _making _you sit in the mud. This isn't solidarity, Cloud."

The other man shook his head, elbows on his ankles as he continued to rub the tags, looking down at them now, smirking. "Yeah, but this is the sort of shit you just have to do."

Leon bent his face to his hand, rubbed one brow, shooting Cloud a dry look. "It is, huh?" The blond hummed confirmation, fingers hooking under the chain, drawing it away from the ground, absently brushing away the dirt that clung. Leon sobered, laced his fingers together between his knees and hunched forward, joining Cloud in staring at the necklace. Silence breathed between them, the blond blinking slowly, gaze seeming to pass gradually out of focus. Leon observed, a crease appearing along his forehead. Quietly, so as not to disturb the man, he asked, "Are you sure about this?"

Cloud twitched, drew a breath and swivelled his head, looked at Leon on a sideways angle. For a long moment, the two men just stared at each other. Then, Cloud smiled, albeit tinged with sadness. "Yeah. They say it won't disturb anything – so, yeah. It feels right."

Leon nodded slightly, lay his head on his open palm to match Cloud's position. "As long as you're happy…" The corner of the blond's mouth twisted up a little further, a slightly withering tone coming into his words.

"Happy, huh?" Leon's fingers moved around to press against his own lips, he blinked lazily as he shrugged. Cloud sighed, leaned over, pried the fingers away and kissed the newly exposed mouth. Softly, he said, "I'm happy."

Leon studied him, a gentle cast to his features. "Just as well." Cloud rested an arm on the man's shoulder, tilted his head so that blond spikes touched brunet locks, and together, they turned their eyes to the view. The metal jingled as Cloud continued to fiddle with the tags. "They'll be going after they've eaten," the brunet reminded, after several hushed, comfortable minutes.

Cloud rested his chin on Leon's shoulder, hooked a piece of hair behind the man's ear. "We'd better get back then," he said, a note of resignation haunting his voice.

Leon nodded, the motion dislodging the hair, making Cloud grunt in mild annoyance, tug it firmly back. "What are you, my groomer?" the brunet muttered, shifting and preparing to rise. "Next thing I know, you'll be measuring the sides to make sure they're even."

"Well, it _is _such long, pretty hair, a personal groomer may be in order," Cloud conceded, releasing him and pressing his free hand to the damp ground, pushing up to his feet. Leon flashed him a scornful glance.

"You do know your ex had hair down past his ass, right?"

"That's true," the blond nodded, brushing off his pants. "But Seph took _care _of his hair – you just wake up and go."

"I tie it back at night, don't I? And I comb it after showers." He smirked in Cloud's direction. "It's not like you're not there when it happens."

"I've seen," the blond agreed, unimpressed, winding the necklace up into his fist. "But I also noticed that these days, if _I_ don't brush your hair after showering, you barely bother doing it."

Leon shrugged, stretched his arms over his head. "Then you should brush my hair more often."

Blue eyes rolled. "Says the man asking sarcastically if I'm his _groomer."_

"It was a question, and now it appears to have been answered," Leon answered smoothly, a hint of a smile in place. "Are we going? I need new pants now."

Cloud sighed, nodded regretfully. "I do tend to have that effect on you, yes." He dodged the hand that came swiping at his spikes, dug his hands into his pockets and started walking, looking immensely pleased with himself. Leon matched his step, and together the two men returned to the castle, in through one of the many smaller entrances. They tracked mud and grass deliberately for when Demyx would have to clean the floors as punishment for splashing DiZ directly – both had felt the chilly saturation of the techie's mischief, and found petty glee in making his job just that little bit harder. They traversed the halls with ease, not speaking, reaching the dining hall a few short minutes later.

The table at which Roxas and Axel sat was busy this morning, as many people crammed around it as would fit. Worry was prevalent on most expressions, though the core of the group, Axel, Demyx, Kairi, Yuffie, were cheerful enough. Roxas remained quiet, sitting beside his boyfriend, picking with little interest at the breakfast Aerith had specially prepared for the assemblage. There were plates littering the table, some balanced on laps, a general chatter filling the air, though it felt, for the majority, shallow, impulsive. The blond and brunet approached, many heads perking at their entrance, a small gap forming with much scraping of chair legs for them to enter. Some of the false cheer died down, sobriety stealing through the collection, Axel and Roxas glancing over. Leon nodded, said, "Hey."

Cloud asked, "Are you guys nearly ready?"

The group tensed, Roxas more than any of them, Axel shooting him a quick glance. An arm wrapping securely around the blond's waist, he answered, "Yeah, we're getting there."

The brunet cast a wry glanced at the group. "Shouldn't you people be doing something?" he asked the Committee members. Yuffie stiffened indignantly.

"We are," she yelped defensively. "We're providing moral support!" She squinted, drumming her fingers on the table dangerously. "Shouldn't _you _be doing something? Other than proposing to Cloud sometime in the next week, that is." Both men rolled their eyes.

"I _am _doing something, I'm providing _actual _moral support."

Cloud and Roxas met each other's gazes, and for a long quiet moment, studied one another. "You're sure you want to do this?" the older man asked softly, unconsciously echoing Leon's earlier words. The teen lowered his eyes to the table, shrugged. There was a leanness to his face that lingered, despite the rate at which he'd been healing over the past four weeks. Neither he nor Axel could quite shake the smudges of darkness under their eyes. Aerith wondered aloud to Cloud, every now and then, if they were having nightmares – real nightmares, not just program-induced sleepwalking. It always took them a little while to get going each day, they had a habit of clinging together until the end of breakfast, never allowing more than a foot to develop between one or the other.

When Axel squeezed his hand under the table, Roxas looked up, smiled a little. "Yeah. Just a little nervous, I guess. But…" Blue eyes flickered back to blue, the slight awkwardness the younger blond always seemed to feel now in Cloud's company abating just ever so slightly. "Yeah. We're cool for this. It's going to be alright." He hesitated, tilted his head to the side. "What about you?"

Cloud grimaced, shrugged, swung his fist up and watched the tags drop down to swing, drawing all eyes. "I'm ready to give it up," he said simply. "This feels like the best thing to do." Roxas stared for a moment, gauging his sincerity, then reached out, wrapped his fingers around the dangling chain, held tight. After a moment, Cloud let go, let the small beads clink down onto the boy's fist. He rubbed his hand slowly on his pants, watched Roxas loop it over his head, tucking it under his sweater.

"Well," Axel said, a touch of weariness to his tone, though he seemed peaceful enough despite the circumstances this morning, "I guess we'd better get going, then, huh?" He glanced to Roxas for confirmation, the boy nodding shortly. More chair legs scraped, as people shifted out of the way for the couple, though no one rose. Roxas stood, exited the tight-knit group, turned and waited patiently as Axel unlatched the brakes of his chair, gripped the wheels and expertly reversed away. "Get to work, slackers," the redhead threw over his shoulder, as he spun to join Roxas. Kairi huffed an incredulous laugh.

"You're the laziest one _here," _she pointed out, sitting on the table in the space left behind.

"Do as I _say, _not as I _do," _Axel replied sagely. He glanced up at Roxas. "Ready?" The blond nodded, flicked his eyes over those at the table, Aerith near the counter pretending to wash dishes, repeatedly wiping at a plate that had been clean roughly ten minutes ago. His lips twitched up, just the slightest amount, as she chanced a look over. She was fearful, deep worry etched into the lines of her face. She didn't speak, although he could tell she desperately wanted to – the current mood of the gathered dictated that the subject be skated over, treated as an everyday occurrence, which, Roxas supposed, it sort of was, to a certain extent. There was nothing up with going into Twilight Town, nothing to get concerned about – almost all of the techies had either come from, or been into, the simulation at some point in their lives, Roxas himself obviously included.

But – it was different this time. He supposed they all knew it, which was why they had flocked together like this. There was that tension to the air that hadn't existed when it had been just he and Axel, underlying the bright words that Yuffie and Kairi insisted on exchanging to fill the gaps, Demyx generally jabbering in the background.

So Aerith kept silent, respecting the fact that everyone was trying to pretend this was all normal and okay, though her thoughts were loud and clear to the blond: _Be careful. _He nodded, just minutely, acknowledging her fears, allaying them with the confidence he felt at doing this – he was calm.

Leaving the group behind, Roxas and Axel crossed the hall, exited out into the corridor. Alone for the first time since leaving their room an hour and a half earlier, Axel cast the blond a sidelong look. "You know, you don't have to do this."

A golden brow arched. "Axel. How many times do I have to tell you that I _want _to do this? It was my idea, remember?"

"Yes, but you were young and foolish, then," the redhead pointed out.

"Right. Last week." He shook his head with faint irritation. "Stop treating me like this is some kind of precursor to a breakdown."

Axel shrugged, started wheeling. "You know how I worry." Roxas sighed.

"Well, you shouldn't," he called, as Axel put some distance between them. He took several long strides to catch up, frowning. Axel snorted.

"Right. Me, not worry. About you." Green eyes rolled. "Like that's ever going to happen."

A hand came out, smacked the back of his head. "It had better _start _happening," Roxas said with an edge. "I don't need you… _mothering _me, Axel."

"Yeah, and I'm not," the redhead responded quietly. "But I _am _looking out for you, Rox. This is what I do, remember?"

The blond glanced down, feeling a flash of irritation at the realisation that he was just – overreacting. Axel was probably right to worry, at least a little. As much as it annoyed him in this moment, he could understand where the man was coming from. He sighed, rubbed at his right eye. "Okay, fine. But – I'm okay. Seriously. I wouldn't have suggested it if I wasn't prepared for it."

Axel nodded, accepted. "As long as you're okay, I'm okay."

"Then I guess we're okay." Roxas smiled slightly, shook his head, bent as they travelled and planted a quick kiss on the redhead's temple. "Short-ass."

"Come down _here_ and say that," the man growled. Roxas jumped lightly onto the footrest of the wheelchair, sat quickly on Axel's right thigh, crossed his knees with exaggerated daintiness. "You – are – a short-ass," he repeated, matter-of-factly. He then elaborated, "In your chair."

"Yeah? I won't be here for long, Roxie," Axel jeered. "Whereas _you _are a short-ass for _life."_

"So I'll break your leg again," the blond replied airily. There was a pause, as each of them stared at the other, his words hanging in the air, so blithely spoken. Roxas paled a little, averted his gaze. Aside from their initial agreement that Roxas had had nothing to do with the attack, they hadn't bothered to take time to discuss the matter. Everything Roxas had felt, everything Axel had screamed, remained unspoken between them.

Axel uttered, "Jacktard." Shame-facedly, Roxas prepared to get up, was stopped by a pair of arms winding around his middle, settling him more securely on his lap while keeping him away from the main damage. "Oh, no, you're not getting away that easy," the redhead muttered. He pointed a finger in the boy's face sternly, commanded, "Stay." When he was sure the blond wasn't going to vacate anytime soon, he lowered his hands to the wheels, started pushing, the newly-built muscles in his arms coming into play. Roxas resigned himself to the ride, rested against Axel's collar and closed his eyes, breathed him in, waited. For a while, there was just the rise and fall of the redhead's chest, the sensation of motion, the sound of the wheels rolling quickly, efficiently. He lifted a hand, placed it over Axel's heart, felt its steady thud against his palm when he pressed. The man glanced down. "Still beating?"

"Yep," Roxas confirmed softly. "I didn't leave it behind."

Axel gave him a weird look. "Huh?" Roxas didn't respond, gentled his touch.

They entered the computer lab, wheels creating a din on the walkway before silencing on the tiles. Riku and Sora were waiting, working at the terminal, the silver-haired teen's hands creating a rapid tapping that filled the room. It had taken a little while for Roxas to get used to seeing Riku around the place… those flashes of silver had, for several days after coming home, startled him badly, sent his pulse leaping jaggedly.

This time, it was Sora that sat in the smaller chair, swinging back and forth. Both boys raised their heads as the couple came in, wariness identical as their eyes fell upon Roxas. The blond sighed, straightened, carefully stepped out of the chair and raised a forestalling hand. "Please – don't ask me if I'm sure about this," he said, before either could voice their concern. "I'm sure, I'm _sure _I'm sure, the works."

"…Actually," Sora answered, after a beat, "I was going to ask if I could have a turn in Axel's wheelchair when you guys are gone?" He smiled in the face of all the stares. "It looks like fun," he added defensively, a moment later.

Axel shook his head, grinning wryly. "Oh, sure, it's fun, when you ignore the blisters on your hands, and the fact that your ass is permanently numb."

"Hm, should make things easier for Roxas," Riku muttered, coughing on the last word and trying to look busy, as both Roxas and Sora began to splutter, one with laughter, the other, indignation. Sora whapped Riku with a keyblade, while Roxas chuckled and wiped his eyes, Axel at his side looking torn between amusement and telling Sora to forgo the whapping and skip straight to the stabbity treatment, Larxene-style.

"Ow. Ow, _Sora, _fuck off."

The brunet glared one last time at his boyfriend, turned to Roxas and Axel and asked, "Any last requests before you leave?"

"Don't challenge Dem to a drag-race," Axel said, wearily. "He bent my right wheel last week."

"I'm thinking he meant for safety's sake," Riku clarified, serious all of a sudden, chair swivelling around so he could cross an ankle over one knee, all but lounging in the large seat, a sceptical expression in place as he studied the pair. The silence from his lack of typing swallowed them, dispensed with the humour they'd been attempting, killing off Roxas' lifted mood just the slightest amount under the tension.

"I'll take care of Roxie," the redhead said quietly. "It's not going to be a big deal."

"You know what I wish?" They looked to Sora, who was frowning. "I wish – we could tie a rope around your middles, so we could – yank you out if she decided to keep you."

"She's not _going _to, you guys," Roxas sighed, running an agitated hand through his hair. "I know…" He closed his eyes briefly, softened his tone. "I know that everyone's thinking of her as – the crazy computer that Roxas-napped me – to quote Demyx directly – but…" He shook his head, hands dropping to his sides, shrugging slightly. "I trust her. I was part of her for a while, and I sort of know how she works now." His gaze turned to meet Axel's, the green intent, with an undercurrent of fear shining through, though he tried to keep it hidden. "She's not interested in hoarding her 'children' and keeping them til they're old and grey," the blond murmured. "She just – she's only doing what she's programmed for. She protects until she has to let go, and then she _does. _I know what she said – about missing us – but…" He glanced at the others. "Isn't that what all moms do, when their kids leave the nest?"

Riku was unimpressed. "I don't like her," he said bluntly. "She's not a 'mom', she's a program." He snorted. "Plus, DiZ created her. I'm not thinking of Jenova as my mom, because I _refuse _to have that man as my 'grandfather'."

"The point I'm making – " Roxas rolled his eyes. " – is that we've got nothing to worry about. She's not going to decide she likes having me back and seal you guys out. She depends on you as much as you do on her, remember? She just wants to be the core, and take care of Twilight Town. That's it."

"Then, why so tense?" Sora asked mildly, elbows on knees, the tip of his keyblade touching the ground, fingers rotating it slowly in place. Roxas glared.

"I under_stand _her, Sora," he replied, with irritation. "Doesn't mean I trust her a hundred percent. I – I can't. Not until we've done this, and she lets me leave again."

"So…" Riku drew the word out, thinking. "After saying all that to us, you're not sure yourself – but you want to find out?"

Roxas stilled for a moment, then nodded, not pleasing Axel in the least. "And if she decides not to?" the redhead asked in low tones. Sora winked, kicking up the end of the keyblade, waving it through the air.

"That's when we perform emergency measures," he promised. He rolled his eyes. "Come on, Axel, you know there's more than one way out of Twilight Town, you should be the one who's confident here."

Axel grimaced, looked down pointedly at his leg, then back at Sora. "You think so, huh?"

"Are we going to keep philosophising about the nature of a mechanical mother, or are you guys actually going _in _there sometime today?" Riku demanded, propping his silver head on one hand, an eyebrow arching.

Axel threw up his hands, exclaimed, "Fine! Do it, send us in, and be the one to suffer and weep and say, 'Why? Why didn't I let Axel philosophise longer before the computer ate him up?'"

Roxas shifted over to the circle on the wall. "She's not going to eat anyone up," he stated, as firmly as he could. He turned, hands on hips. "Are you rolling over here, or do I have to push you?"

"You're not pushing me," Axel said quickly, pride snapping up, driving his hands down to the wheels to join the blond.

"You're sure this'll work with Axel?" Roxas asked doubtfully, looking down at the man. Sora flapped a dismissive hand.

"It's cool, all under control. It's just pixels, right? We decide how you come out on the other side, it's all in the coding."

"In that case, make me _sexy," _Axel commanded. "Like, sexi_er. _I want Roxie to look at me, foam at the mouth, and fall over to do my bidding."

"You mean the way you do every time he enters a room?" Riku replied, twisting the chair back and resuming his typing efforts. Axel scowled.

"You want to start talking about who's whipped here? How about that time when you – "

"Okay, cock-competitions aside," Sora interrupted loudly, sighing, "are you guys in position and stuff? And if I hear anything about _positions, _from _either _of you – " He darted Riku a warning look, received a distracted smirk in return, lit up by the glow of the screen. " – I'll start hurting people."

"Yeah, like he can measure up to Innuendo Boy," Axel muttered. He tugged Roxas a little, shoved him into place, gestured his hands in a 'go on' motion to the other techies. Riku and Sora exchanged a look, shrugged simultaneously, and started the process. "Take care of Roxas," Riku cautioned, at which he received a scornful look and a middle finger. Then the blue light began to flicker, washed over the blond and redhead, scanned them in, and broke them apart. They were sucked away, and the next time they existed, it was in an alleyway, dim, golden light illuminating the world.

Roxas gasped, fell over, was caught by strong, gentle hands and steadied. "Gonna be sick?" Words warm in his ear. Roxas shook his head hurriedly, then emptied his breakfast out onto the pavement a bare moment later, coughing at the burn. Axel held him tightly for some minutes, until the awful shaking receded. Roxas hung from his grip, waiting for the dizziness to fade. It took a little while for him to realise that – Axel was taller than him again. He blinked, twisted his head, looked up with surprise at the smiling face. "Your tattoos are gone," he croaked. Axel's brows rose. He steadied Roxas, until he was sure the teen was standing on his own, walked a little way down the alley until he reached a window studded in the side of the brick wall, dusty and covered from within. He peered at his reflection. "Huh, so they are. Must've been left over from last time."

"Axel…" The redhead turned curiously at the tone of Roxas' voice. The boy was looking – horribly depressed, all of a sudden. Axel frowned, started towards him.

"Rox? What is it?"

The blond shook his head, gestured weakly. "Look at you. You're walking."

Axel glanced down, lifted his left leg, looked back at the teen and smiled, extending the leg, balancing unsteadily. "Yep! You heard Sora, right? All just pixels. Easy enough to give me a new leg in here." He hesitated, lowered his foot back to the ground. "Think about it, Rox – it was a war. Well-placed and shittily-aimed bombs wiped out most of the goddamn adult population, remember? There were some kids that came here – missing things." He shrugged a little at the dawning horror on Roxas' face. "Just another good reason to keep some of them in here, you know?" He returned to where the blond stood, slung an arm around his shoulders, held him close for a moment. "When we get home, it's back to the chair for me, but we figured it'd be easier if I was able to walk around a little." Roxas nodded, frowning. One slender-fingered hand came up, Axel tenderly brushing the flaxen hair from his face. "Come on. Let's go find him." Roxas' eyes slipped shut for a moment, he took a breath before nodding. Axel's hand dropped down, hooked into one of his, and together they left the alleyway.

It was – so strange walking these streets again, bathed in the now almost-unfamiliar early twilight. It was – quiet here, none of the frenetic energy that Hollow Bastion owned. Roxas could see why Axel had liked it when he'd come for him – there truly was a sense of peace, it lingered on the air, in the brighter colours of everything. People were calmer, their lives sedate. It was – enjoyable, because Roxas knew that, in the end, this wasn't home anymore. He wasn't trapped here, and so could appreciate all that had only bored him before. It _was _a nice place to grow up, and for the first time, he was grateful that he'd been able to. He'd been given the gift of a quiet life, when the world outside it was rife with conflict. Maybe eventually that hadn't worked for him, but it was a good place for a kid.

He shut his eyes, breathed the cool air deeply, and thought of how it had looked as a small ball in a jewellery box.

"You remember the way?" Axel asked softly, studying him carefully. Roxas smiled, blue eyes flashing open.

"It'd be hard to forget, don't you think?" He nodded, tugged the redhead's hand, subtly taking the lead. "I know where to go." They walked slowly along the sidewalk, fingers intertwined, looking for all the world like any regular couple out for a stroll. After a while, Roxas smiled. "This feels familiar," he murmured. Axel glanced down.

"Hm?"

Roxas nodded to the nearby bushes. "Three in the morning, you, me, walking around the block." Axel's head rose, gaze sharpening. Amusement crept across his features.

"Well, what do you know… I'm getting the sudden urge to start collecting little rocks."

"Yeah, but, if you threw them right now? I totally wouldn't come to the window." Their eyes caught, smirks deep, heads shaking slightly at the thought of that time of their lives ever even existing. Roxas sighed, grip on Axel tightening as the house came into view. There were two different realities running through his head in this deciding moment – there was him and Axel, like this, together and walking through the light, and then there was Roxas alone, schoolbag slung over his shoulder, the world darkening, mood low, breath trapped without knowing. He could almost feel that other version of himself, walking a half-pace behind, blurring into him. He could – almost feel the hopelessness.

A dog barked nearby. The Roxas of little more than two months ago faded, wilted, was gone, leaving only Axel's Roxie in his place, shoes scraping the path. Blond hair touched Axel's shoulder, their steps slowing, his nose burrowing briefly into the redhead's arm. Axel touched his chin, lifted, met his gaze and studied him for a moment, before tapping their lips dryly together. "I see him," he murmured. Roxas twisted, froze a little, heartbeat hesitating at the sight.

Kadaj was on Roxas' driveway, bouncing one of Roxas' tennis balls. The clothes were new, though – he wouldn't have fit Roxas' wardrobe. And the golden-haired dog running around – Roxas had never seen _that _before. And yet, it was unmistakably Kadaj's. It yapped happily, bounding around, a joyful air surrounding it as the young silver-haired man threw the ball across the yard, the canine streaking after it. It had been Aerith's gift to him, to aid in his bid for peace. There weren't many pets in Twilight Town, because the thought of transporting animals into the castle and scanning them in had seemed too difficult and ridiculous, but – they'd made an exception for this one. Naminé had written it into his life flawlessly.

Roxas pondered on how they could care so much about the happiness of a man they feared, someone who had tormented him, put the entire castle on edge. Part of it was necessity – if he didn't find his peace, couldn't be stable, there were few options left. It was vital that he survived this, found somewhere that his mind and heart could rest. But, at the same time… there was a small part, or maybe a larger one, in almost everyone that had been in that room that day, that wanted this for _him. _Not for themselves, to keep out of trouble, but – it was hard to look at a broken soul, and not want it to be mended. No matter how horrendous his acts might have been, Roxas doubted there was a single person with intimate knowledge of the man that didn't desire him to be happy, just so he could be _happy. _There was an inner voice, loud or soft, that told their consciences that everyone deserved a chance.

How bizarre, to see him now, laughter bright, with a musical quality, as the dog galloped back, a glimpse of apple-green in its mouth. Kadaj didn't appear to care about the slobber, though Axel made a face when they saw a string of it descend from the pet's jaw as the silver-haired man took the ball. Seconds later, it was sailing again, the four-legged creature tearing after it. Roxas and Axel looked at each other, steeled themselves, and approached.

It was odd seeing someone else obviously living in the house he'd grown up in. Even more surprising, the fact that he didn't feel jealous. Roxas would have expected it, at least a little. Kadaj now believed that he'd spent his entire life here, had been raised from a baby with the house that _Roxas _had lived in. And it had been up til less than three _months _ago. Shouldn't he have felt some stab of possessiveness, at the very least? A sensation of mild desolation at having been so utterly cast aside and replaced? If he did, it wasn't coming, didn't flicker, didn't flare. The most he felt at it all was – a sense of finality, he supposed. This truly was the end of it, the end of his Twilight Town days, the end of his early, fearful Hollow Bastion days. It was done with.

Kadaj glanced up as they approached, out of breath, cheeks flushed and hair messy, shorter than it had been in Hollow Bastion, swinging at shoulder-length. The grin died a little, becoming faint wariness, slight puzzlement as the blond and redhead crossed to where he waited for the dog to return. It was rustling wildly through the hedge on the far side of the yard, searching for its prize. The man straightened, wiping his slobbery hand on his pants while the other lifted the hair from his narrowing eyes. There was something faintly defensive about his stance. "Can I help you?" he asked cautiously. His gaze flicked from one to the other, not quite suspicious, but as if he were ready to become so. Roxas forced a smile.

"Hi. We're from the school. They sent us to give you something."

A silver brow lifted. "Give me something?" His hands found his hips, body twisting slightly to face them better. He was looking healthier than Roxas remembered, flesh fuller, more muscle beneath his skin, exposed by the short sleeves of his shirt.

"Yeah." Roxas lifted his hands, unhooked the necklace, let the ID tags drop from his fist like he'd seen Cloud do. As Kadaj stared at them, eyes following the glint of metal as they swung, Axel and Roxas watched his closely. They were ready, if he snapped, to call for their weapons and fight him. Sora and Riku were up there, out there, like minor deities, following the proceedings closely – Axel's chakrams, Roxas' keyblades, both were already scanned into the system, ready to burst into being at their fingertips.

"Your brother made them in a metalwork class."

A frown creased the man's face, teal-green eyes jumping up to azure irises. "My – brother?"

"Yeah," Axel said easily. "Read the inscription."

Uncertainly, Kadaj reached out, caught the swaying necklace. Roxas let go immediately, the two males stepping back, putting enough space between them all for a decent fight to take place. Not noticing, the man tucked some hair behind one ear, rubbed a thumb over the metal, lifted it close to scrutinise the worn words. "Sephiroth. Gen. Sephiroth… General?" He glanced at them inquisitively, received no response, returned to the tags. "Zanarkand Corps…" He scowled a little, formed a fist around the chain. "What _is _this?"

"We told you," Axel replied calmly. "It belonged to your older brother. He's dead now, but he made that in high school. They found it lying around, sent us to give it to you."

Confusion touched the man's features, eyes drawn back to the tags. "…Oh…" He looked back up at them, briefly baffled. "My brother… died?"

"You know he did," Roxas said softly. "He was a good man, remember?"

Kadaj lowered his gaze, swallowed. "…Right. Of course."

"Kadaj?" All three turned, Kadaj breaking into a bright smile, as a woman appeared at the front door, where Roxas' mother would normally have stood. She was tall, slender, with flowing silver hair almost to her calves. She dressed simply, in white, and wore a gentle expression. "I think Meteor's lost the ball," she called, crossing her arms and leaning against the doorframe. "How about you go help? Then come on in, sweetie."

Kadaj hesitated, nodded. "Sure, mom," he replied loudly. He turned to the two others, his eyes lingering on Roxas for a second longer than Axel. There was a look to them that suggested to the blond that some part of him, deep, deep down, thought he was meant to remember this person, this short, spike-haired boy with the wide, blue eyes. "Thanks," he said at last, gesturing with the chain. "I appreciate it. I'm sure my mom will, too."

"Yeah, I'll bet," Axel muttered. Roxas merely nodded. Both watched as the boy sketched a wave, went jogging over to where the dog was running in confused semi-circles around the hedge. Roxas was already staring at the woman, who gazed back calmly, a slight smile in place. Axel noticed, glared a little, a hand coming up to rest on the blond's shoulder, squeezing and rubbing. She met his look, inclined her head faintly, sent one last affectionate blink Roxas' way, and disappeared into the house. Kadaj went past a moment later, leading the dog by the collar, tennis ball grubby in his other hand. He glanced over, waved a second time, followed her in through the open door. It shut, leaving the blond and redhead alone on the pavement.

"Well," Axel said positively, "he didn't go crazy. That's got to be a good sign, huh?" Roxas murmured a response, eyes fixed on the white front door. Axel examined him. "Roxie? You okay?"

The teen heaved a sigh, squeezed his hand. "I'm okay. Just – feeling stuff." He smiled. "He seemed okay, though, didn't he?"

"He did," the redhead agreed quietly. He tugged at Roxas' arm, drawing his attention away from the silent house. "Hey, one more stop, right?"

Roxas grew wary. "Are you sure that's a good idea? I wouldn't want to… you know…"

"It'll be fine." Axel pulled him close, planted a kiss in his hair, swayed him slightly. "Seriously. It's not _that _fragile." He leaned back, ran a thumb tenderly over the blond's cheek. "It's okay to ask."

Roxas drew a breath, nodded. "Okay, then."

"Lead the way again?" Axel offered. Roxas' mouth curved up.

"Sure."

They started back the way they'd come, cresting the short hill and walking down towards town. Again, the surrealistic comparison between then and now rose up, but this time, Roxas merely observed it, and thanked his lucky stars for letting them this time be holding hands. Realising that this would be the last time for a while that they'd be like this, Roxas lifted Axel's arm, wound it around his shoulder, reached up to grab a handful of shirt and rested against his boyfriend. Only a little surprised by the action, Axel held him close, their steps leading them into the heart of Twilight Town and then a little bit further.

There was a train on the tracks, thundering over the Usual Spot as they arrived, deafening those inside to their approach. Roxas let go of Axel, quickening unconsciously, pushing the ratty curtain aside and entering the cubby-hole of a space. It took a moment for the three inhabitants to notice him standing there, a little longer for the noise to die down enough for speech. There was puzzlement on each face, curiosity. Roxas just – stared.

Hayner lifted an eyebrow. "Uh – hi? Can we help you?"

Now that he was here, he didn't quite know what to say. How did you ask someone a question like this? Someone who thought of you as a total stranger? Axel entered behind him, glancing around with the same appreciation he'd displayed the first time he'd seen it. Olette blinked. "Hello," she offered the pair. "Um – I'm Olette. That's my boyfriend Hayner, and our friend Pence." The cheerful brunet, just as Roxas remembered him, lifted his hand in a wave.

"How's it going?" Pence asked, pleasantly.

"You two lost or something?" Hayner asked, arms crossing as he looked Axel up and down with a faintly unimpressed expression. "People don't usually come back here – especially not out-of-towners."

Axel smirked. "Oh, you can tell?"

"Dude, if I'd seen you before, I'd remember. No one forgets a thatch of hair like _that."_

"Unless I'm just really, really forgettable," the redhead replied merrily. Roxas shook his head sharply, darted Axel a warning glance. He turned his gaze onto Hayner, felt a stab of uncertainty at having his childhood best friend look at him with such lack of recognition. It was one thing to see it on screen, another to actually experience it. It was unnerving, to say the least. He did still care about them, after all. "Um…" All eyes were on the blond. He took a breath, smiled and waved weakly. "Hi. I'm – Roxas. This is my – friend – Axel." Axel's smirk grew wider.

"Roxas?" Hayner echoed sceptically. He eyed the boy off for a long moment. Olette and Pence seemed to wait for his approval. He shrugged. "Welcome to Twilight Town, I guess. Are you lost?"

Roxas relaxed, released the breath, smile becoming warmer, easier, if tinged with a little melancholy. "No, we're just – looking around. Checking places out."

"Uh-huh."

"So, where are you two from?" Olette asked, cheerfully, bouncing her knees. "Are you here for long?"

"No – we're… we're leaving pretty soon," Roxas replied hesitantly.

"We're from Hollow Bastion," Axel interjected, leaning casually on the blond's shoulder. There was a slight pause, as the three teens frowned simultaneously. They looked at each other, a hair of confusion lacing the air.

"You know…?" Olette said slowly. "I'm pretty sure I've heard of that somewhere… but I can't quite remember where."

"Oh, it's no big place," Axel replied breezily. "You probably heard it mentioned on TV or something."

"Yeah…"

"So – do you guys _like _Twilight Town?" Pence asked, amiably. "How come you're going already?"

"Oh, we love it, it's a beautiful place," Axel cut in, before Roxas could respond. He shrugged. "But, you know, things to do, people to see, all that jazz." He paused suddenly, placed his hands together and pointed his index fingers, touching them thoughtfully to his lips. "Something you might be able to help us with, though – Roxas has a question for you." They turned to Roxas, as Roxas turned to Axel with wide eyes. The redhead beamed. "Don't you,_ honey?"_

Roxas glared, pursed his lips, rolled his eyes and twisted back to the others. "Uh, yeah," he said uncertainly. Hayner was waiting expectantly, tapping his foot.

"Well? We'll tell you whatever you need to know."

Roxas thought for a moment, panicking at the blankness in his mind. His fingers knotted together. "Well… I just was wondering if – " His eyes darted up, flicked to each of them in turn. His voice softened. " – if you're happy here. Your lives. In Twilight Town. Are you – are you happy?"

There was silence. They stared for a long moment. Hayner's eyebrow raised even further. "That's what you wanted to ask? That?"

Roxas shrugged uncomfortably, a hand reaching up to slide under his collar, grabbing his shoulder. "Well – yeah. I was just – curious, I guess. Maybe it's weird to hear… a total stranger ask you that, but, I guess I just – wanted to know."

Hayner studied him. "I guess," he said after a while. "I guess it _is _weird, but you know? I kinda like you. You remind me of someone."

Roxas looked up sharply, heart thundering. "I – who?"

The dirty-blond frowned, shook his head. "Couldn't tell you. Maybe someone I used to know as a kid or something." He squinted at the pair. "You sure you've never lived here before? You seem – familiar, all of a sudden."

"No, no, we're strangers," Axel said quickly, on a wide, slightly forced grin. "If we offered you candy, you'd have to say _nooooo. _We should probably get going, though, we have a train to catch, and – "

"Are you?" Roxas demanded, elbowing the redhead silent. "Are you happy here?"

The three friends glanced at one another, some form of communication taking place, before Hayner turned back to him, shrugged one shoulder, responded, "Sure. What's not to be happy about?"

Roxas closed his eyes, went still, absorbed these words. He nodded shortly, gave a little laugh. "You're right," he said quietly. "What's _not _to be happy about?" When he looked at them again, he was smiling, lighter-looking than before. "That's good. I'm glad – that you're happy." Axel's hand found the back of his neck, touch gentle.

"We should go," he murmured. Roxas tilted his chin to one side and down, agreed.

"You're leaving already?" Olette asked, sounding disappointed. Roxas shrugged regretfully.

"Like he said – train to catch."

Axel's arm wrapped around his shoulder. "It was great meeting you all, really, but we're going to be late." He tugged at the blond. "Come on, Roxie."

Roxas resisted a little, gazing longingly at his old friends. "I hope – I hope you keep being happy," he said. "As long as you're happy…"

"We are," Pence assured him. He beamed at his friends. "I don't think that's about to change anytime soon, right, guys?" They assented firmly. Olette smiled sweetly.

"Thanks for caring, though."

Roxas returned the expression. "No problem, 'Lette." Hayner scowled a little at the familiarity of his tone, but it faded as Roxas met his gaze. "So, I'll see you sometime, maybe."

Hayner nodded slowly. "Sure. Maybe. If you ever come back."

"Or maybe," Roxas corrected softly, "if you ever leave…"

After saying good-bye, they exited into the alleyway, passing through a burst of artificial sunlight that looked and felt so damn real. They walked to the mansion; they left the simulation.

Roxas never did go back.

-------

…_And Six Months After That_

_-------_

One step, two steps, a _thousand _steps, it felt like, and Axel still refused to hurry the fuck up. "Come on, come _on," _Roxas whined impatiently. "What are you, an old fucking man? Are you _arthritic?"_

The redhead wheezed a laugh. "Hey, I've got the cane, don't I? There's my ticket to senior-citizenship. It's like a one-way trip. Which means no more sex – from now on, you have to pre-chew my food and massage lotion into my wrinkles."

"Our ice-creams are _melting," _Roxas complained. He head-butted the slow-moving man in the small of his back. "Jeeze, by the time we get up there, I'll be holding two popsicle sticks. If I'd _known _you were going to be _slow, _I'd have gone _first _and had my ice-cream already!"

"Yeah, yeah, bitch, bitch, bitch." Axel glanced back, asked breathlessly, "If you're so worried, have the ice-cream now. You don't have to wait for me."

Roxas groaned, flopped against the staircase rail in distress. "Okay, firstly, yes I _do, _otherwise I'd _suck, _and secondly, it's not the _same _if I have it here!" His face hardened stubbornly. "I'm waiting, damn it."

"Well, then." Axel twirled a hand. "Shut the fuck up and push me."

"Push you?" Roxas eyed his back sceptically. "I can push you _down, _if you'd like."

"Or," the redhead responded slyly, "you could grab my ass and push me _that _way."

"Aw, sorry," the teen said, mock-regret dripping from his voice, "but my hands are filled with ice-cream. Otherwise, I'd _totally _grab your ass, Axel. And fling you down the _stairs."_

"No fun," Axel panted. "No fun at all."

By the time they reached the top, Roxas was glaring. They emerged into fresh air, a brisk breeze blowing at this point in the afternoon, as the broad orb of the sun swam over the horizon. Axel turned with a wide smile, ready to exclaim over the view, and got a sticky blue hand thrust into his face. "Take it," the blond grated. "No-o-o-w."

Head leaning away, Axel squinted at him, took the melted confection. It truly was a little sad, by now – a misshapen sky-blue lump dribbling on a stick. He muffled a laugh at the sight of Roxas' forearms, both with cobalt ribbons of sugar twined around and around the flesh. "Oh, you think this is funny?" the blond demanded. "Well, wise-guy, while I'm sitting on the edge of the clock tower eating what's _left _of _my _ice-cream, you're going to be getting a little messy yourself, since you'll be busy licking my _arms clean."_

Axel grinned cockily. "Roxie, you say that like it's a punishment. It'll be my _pleasure," _he drew the word out, "to lick you, my sweet."

"Less talk, more lick." The blond shoved his arm in the man's face, paying absolutely no attention as Axel took and began slowly, methodically, lapping the blue away. He was forced to shuffle after Roxas, who grabbed a handful of his hair so he couldn't disengage, over to the edge. "Un, 'Oxas?" he attempted, tongue sliding over the boy's golden skin, "ah hink – _huck!" _He was jerked down as Roxas sat abruptly, the smirk on the teen's face more than evident, as he smugly sucked away a section of coldness.

"Yes, Axel? My sweet?"

The man struggled to settle without hurting his leg or tumbling into oblivion. He shot the blond a dirty look. "Ur a huckin hucker."

"Oh, Axie, I love you, too." When the flesh of both arms was clean, he lifted his head.

"Can I _stop _now?" Roxas turned, eyed him off.

"Hmm. Almost done." He leaned forward, hooked a finger under the redhead's chin, and slowly licked away the faint ring of blue from around Axel's mouth. The man hummed his approval, eyes slipping lazily shut. Roxas pulled back, lips smacking. "You're melting," he warned with a crooked smile. Axel blinked dazedly for a moment, glanced down at his blue-smeared stick. The confection itself had dripped into a neat puddle on the limestone. "Well, fuck," he said conversationally. "There's goes _my _sea-salt ice-cream."

Roxas bumped him with a shoulder. "Don't worry, you got the majority off my arms."

"It's just not the same," the man sighed. He wrapped his arms around the blond, kissed him. "But you do _taste _like it… your tongue's even cold… Hey, Roxie? Wanna play pretend?"

"Wanna fall a looooong, looooong way to the ground?"

Axel pouted. "Oh, come on, don't be mean. We're here, aren't we? And I seem to recall you promising to do _anything _if I got you onto the clock tower…"

"And now you find out that I lied," the blond said brightly. "Hah!" He snorted at the disappointed glare he received, tossed the stick away and twisted on the wall, sitting with his back resting against Axel, his legs stretched out. He tipped his head onto the redhead's shoulder. "Come on, Axel, for once we can actually watch the clouds from up high," he said softly. "It might not be Sunset Hill, but hell, we can always go there tomorrow, right? And we've got plenty of time for…" He rolled his eyes. "…'playing pretend', when the sun goes down." He placed a sticky-lipped kiss onto the man's cheek. "Please?"

Axel met his gaze, flinched away as if pained. "Oh, jeeze, the look, you're giving me the look." He exhaled loudly, exasperatedly throwing up his hands. "Fine! We'll watch the stupid sunset and the stupid clouds."

"Yay!" Roxas drew his face around, kissed him more deeply. "Thank you."

Axel's eyes fluttered closed. He murmured, "Mm, you taste salty… No, wait, sweet…"

Roxas winked, flicked the tip of his nose with his tongue. "Who knew I was such a cuisine?"

They settled, Axel absently hanging an arm over the blond, fingers brushing along his bare arm. He licked at his popsicle stick, although there was nothing left but some flavour and a growing sense of splinters.

They watched their very first, real Twilight Town sunset together, real clouds that hung identically, elsewhere, over a false version of the view. They stayed until the stars came out, one by twinkling one.


End file.
